Paper CutOuts
by twistedcoincidence
Summary: Bella prefers the virtual to the actual, but feels herself being tugged from the safety of her online realm into the world of a rough edged Edward. This time she'll write her own story. Collab with astilbe13 AH/AU
1. Chapter 1

_Broken sticks and broken stones_

_Will turn to dust just like our bones_

_It's words that hurt the most now isn't it_

_Are you sad inside, are you home alone_

_If I could just pick up the phone_

_Maybe you could see a better day_

_Again Today- Brandi Carlile_

**Ordinary**: -_adjective_; of no special quality or interest; commonplace; unexceptional

There are no highlights in the story of my life, no cliff hangers, no nail biting moments. Everything drones on like the predictable beat of a metronome, no down beats or flourishes. My parents seem to think that this is the their ultimate gift to me. They call it comfort, stability. I call it hell.

It can't be completely blamed on them. I have been easily led down this path. Every time I had the chance to stick a toe out of line, I've gone chicken shit and recoiled back to the familiar. So, I've been the bystander. I watched as my friends took risks, stuck out their necks, handed out their hearts, all whileI seethed with jealousy.

I sigh as my pen taps out a simple beat against the cheap vinyl of my cubicle desk. At least I'm next to a window. Not something I fought for, just a simple coincidence that the lucky bastard I replaced passed down to me. My phone beeps incessantly at me and I exhale slowly, narrowing my eyes at the black box. I pull the receiver to my ear and try to sound awake.

"Good afternoon, I'm calling to tell you about the amazing results you can get with…." My voice drones on as I wait for the familiar dial tone. I am that person. The scum who calls at the worst time and tries to con you into signing up for a pill that will in no way make you look like Jennifer Aniston, but will be emptying your bank account slowly, as you forget you are being billed monthly.

The saddest part is that some people actually buy this. Most people hang up before the voice sensor can transfer them to my phone, and the people who wait long enough to hear my voice often hang up faster than I can get out the first sentence. But there are those people, those sad people who listen long enough to get pulled in. Thank God those people exist, because they pay my check, but still. Poor idiots.

This call is one of those people. I am already explaining the benefits of using the 'miracle pill' for the full 90 days and I can almost hear the cats meowing in the background. The woman is eager, spewing forth her credit card information willingly.

I stab the numbers into my ancient computer and when I hang up, a little victory screen appears, congratulating me on my sale. The last thing I feel is victorious.

This is what a college degree in art history gets you these days. I twist a strand of hair forcefully around my fingers and think back to a time when I was actually hopeful that I would use my degree to educate the masses on art. And then I started job hunting.

When ten percent of the population is looking for a job, there really isn't much of a demand for someone who knows the difference between Monet and Manet. My first job out of college was mixing ice cream at one of those obnoxious places where people get to build their own flavor. I try not to think of the sick shit people found appealing. When a friend of my mother's told her about my current job opening up, I actually thought it was an upgrade. How wrong I was. I would give a small toe to go back to ice cream, but I am now maddeningly dependant on the slightly higher pay check.

I take a quick look around to check that no one is paying any attention to me, they never are, before leaning towards the window. Three stories up is just high enough to watch without being caught, a small light in my day. My eyes scan the streets and watch as people pass, the warm sun causing people to slow their pace.

A woman is scolding her child for dropping an ice cream cone. The little boys head hangs in shame and I want to rush down the stairs and yell back at her. It's only ice cream. I've almost convinced myself to go, when a crash pulls my eyes away from the travesty.

My eyes search for the noise and when I find it, I'm frozen. A large truck is backed up into the dark storefront across the street. The back is open, revealing row upon rows of what I think are kegs. None of that is important. My eyes can't leave the man attempting to right a fallen keg which has somewhat exploded, soaking him in beer. His hair is matted to his forehead, his shirt suctioned to his body. My eyes wander, taking in the dark stains on his skin, which is all I can make out of what must be tattoos.

The oddest thing is that he's laughing. There's beer everywhere, spilling into the gutters and staining the sidewalk, and he's laughing. Head thrown back, mouth wide. My eyes flutter over to the driver who is yelling and running in a circle like a wind up toy.

Again, the urge to run down to the street tugs at me. But this time, for a very different reason. My phone rings shrilly and I look out the window one last time before turning back to my reality.

* * *

I trudge up the dark stairs to my loft, stopping at every landing to lean heavily on the painted concrete walls, my soul and energy drained from sucking away people's hard earned money. When I reach my door, I shove my hand deep in my bag, searching for the familiar cool metal keys. The key slides in easily, marking the first thing to go my way today

The door swings open slowly, revealing the single room that is my sanctuary. Carefully placed sheets, fail at creating a sense of walls. I let my bag slide from my shoulder onto the floor, taking up its designated space in the room. My shoes quickly find their place next to my bag as I stumble towards my futon.

I fall face first into the well-worn blankets and smile. Turning over, I curl around my prized possession. I pull my my Mac into me and flip it open, happy to be bathed in its light. My fingers dance over the keys and open the familiar page quickly. I smile as it greets me and announces what is my whole social network. 'You have 378 friends'.

I never get sick of seeing that number and still get a little giddy every time it rises. Never mind that I may not actually know half the people who make up the number. It's proof. An undeniable fact that I do in fact have a life. My eyes scan over the updates and I begin what is my nightly social interaction.

'Laura Simms hates everyone who owns a digital camera'

'Marc Hawkins now owns a pair of vintage Nike's'

'Alice Brandon wishes she knew how to make cheesecake.'

I read each update, feeling more and more connected to a world where I belong. I take my time, savoring each posting on my wall, typing out careful replies. The computer warms up my bed and I draw in closer to its heat. I move only to make a box of Mac and Cheese and change from my stifling work clothes into sweats.

The hours push past me and my fingers keep busy. I smile and laugh at words I don't actually hear, only read. My eyes drop and the red numbers on my digital clock starts to taunt me. Six hours until I have to get up, then five. At four and a quarter, I finally relent and pluck out my final words. I push the lid closed and fall into a quick sleep, feeling full and needed.

* * *

When the sun flickers across my eyes and the piercing beep of my alarm pulls me from sleep, I fight back the urge to lift the top of my computer and forgo making money for the day. Gritting my teeth, I pull myself from my cocoon. I hate being an adult.

The requisite black pants and white blouse are pulled from the closet, not caring about the combination. Nothing clashes, its all simple, stale. My ear buds are pushed into place as I hit the street. The walks to and from work are the only times I feel completely centered. The notes and words swirling in my head taunt me with the idea of possibility and change. My wistfulness gets me through the first hour.

The phone rings often throughout the morning, a time when people obviously feeling more inclined to try futile attempts at self improvement. The words come easily and having a script doesn't hurt. Several of the idiots around me are trashing on the women we are catering to, and I want to chuck my pencil cup at them.

Lunch hits and I glance at the bag I brought with me and then back out to the street. The black storefront catches my eye as I rise from my seat. I tell myself it's to try the new deli, but the lie is useless when not used on anyone else. I wind my way through the office, nodding at the people I can't avoid making eye contact with.

Another benefit of being mundane is how easily I slip into the background. Be a face that never stops a wandering eye. I could try harder, be louder, but it would be asking a lot. It would be pushing my toe past that rutted line. I push my thick glasses up my nose and sigh.

The air outside is thick with moisture, and it clings to my skin like a layer I wish I could peel off. The taste clings to me and as I lick my lips I swear I can taste it. I push through the heat and people to the deli. The line is long and the air is out, but it doesn't really matter. This step is a means to an end really. When my turn comes, I order the first sandwich I can read off the board and rush out doors.

My thumb makes it way into my mouth as I trudge slowly towards my real destination. I chew on the nail and slow my feet. It seemed like such a good idea three stories above the ground. Now I feel silly, and strange, and a little idiotic. What could be the possible point of this?

My head whirls with possibly scenarios. What would I do if I actually saw him? There's no way on God's green earth that I could speak to him. What could I possibly have to say? He would take one look at me and mistake me for scenery. Suddenly, this seems like a very bad idea. Something quite similar to pushing that invisible line.

That thought stops me in my tracks. I feel the restraint so carefully built up inside of me stretch. I take one step and then another. Getting closer to more than just a bar and an enigma of a man, but to breaking free just a little. My heart beats frantically against my ribs and I'm sure at any moment, my thumb nail will be gone due to the efforts of my nervous biting.

As the bar looms closer, I have to push harder for each step. When I stand in front of the simple, battered exterior, I feel victory surge through me. The simple white sign reads 'here' and I smirk at the simplicity of it. I stand in front of the door and wait for I don't know what.

What are the chances that I would see him again? Especially in the middle of the day. I sigh and begin to turn towards the office, when the hinges creak and groan, signaling their opening. My sandwich falls to the ground and I scurry around the side of the building.

I lean my head against the heated brick and pull it away and press back several times. And then I feel the itch creep back into me. I pull myself along the brick, enough to peer around the corner. I watch the retreating form with a sense of safety. With his back to me, I am free to let my eyes trace the width of his shoulders and the tension of his arm, as he attempts to hold back what appears to be a monster of a dog.

I soak in the ink that litters his arms and peaks out under his collar. Before I can think to stop myself, I am slowly following his retreating steps, wanting to be closer. He turns suddenly and I almost hit the deck. Instead, I press myself against the nearest building and hope to fade away. I clench my eyes shut and hold my breath.

I open my eyes and free my lungs when I'm sure I'll pass out from the efforts otherwise. When I glance back up the sidewalk, he's gone. It's useless to try to fight off the battling relief and disappointment. I swallow down both emotions and cross the street.

The stairs serve as my last chance at figuring this out. This is not me. I'm vanilla and predictable. I do not ogle men with dark bars and tattoos. I date boys with polo shirts and video game addictions. He's the kind of man my father wants me to stay away from. The kind of man that my mother sees and steers me in the opposite direction.

I take the stairs slowly, giving this stranger a story in my mind. A story filled with things I've only seen in movies. Things like drugs, strip clubs, and fight clubs. The last image causes my whole body to heat a little. Doesn't every girl love a broken man?

* * *

My bravery doesn't return for a while. I live pressed up against my window, my phone cord stretched to its limit so I don't miss one entry or exit. Mostly, it's just him and the beast of a dog, but occasionally other people make appearances. I fill my days spinning stories about him and the people I see walk in and out of his door. The beautiful women are pole dancers and struggling European models, and the men are rough around the edges, looking for redemption in a bottle.

I try to focus on Mrs. Hamilton, who is currently overjoyed about her pill purchase, when he exits the building. I all but drop the call and roll myself closer to the glass. He lingers outside for a moment, taking in the exterior of the building and kicking at a loose piece of paneling.

"What the hell are you gawking at?" The voice breaks me from my daze and my forehead smacks the glass. I rub the tender skin and scowl as Mike laughs. I roll reluctantly back to my desk, not wanting to share my voyeurism. Mike lingers by the window and I wish I could see what he was seeing.

"You ever been there?" he asks. I ignore his question and will the phone to ring. He reaches over and tugs on my ponytail.

"To 'Here'. You ever been to the bar?" he pushes. I sigh and shake my head. I don't think I've ever actually been in a bar. The closest thing to that was being in Sharon Finks parent's basement in high school. Drinks were easy to find in college and I didn't have time to devote a night to going out when I was focused on being the next thing the Metropolitan Museum recruited.

"It's a pretty decent place," he mutters, before rushing off to answer the shrill ring of his phone. Once he leaves, I bask in the silence before rushing back to the window. He's gone and I don't understand the tug I feel because of it.

I roll back to my desk and fiddle with my stapler until my phone rings again. I resist the call of the window for the rest of the day, frustrated with the sheer possibility of the man I saw knowing more about the world than I do. Even his ink tells stories. And I have nothing to tell. No occasion worth documenting on my skin. I'm jealous. I want those kinds of memories. I want to steal the stories on his skin.

The sun sinks in the sky and before I leave, I let myself have one last look. The tug returns and it clouds my mind and kicks up an idea I should toss aside. _I'm going to go in_. The idea roots itself in my mind and oddly calms the tug.

I pull on my cardigan and smile a little to myself. Wait til I tell the girls on my wall…

**A/N- a new story with the fabulous co-writer of unraveled knot. please tell us what you think. and a HUGE thank you to sadiyah the beta of our ramblings...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_**t&a—**_**so, we totally forgot to write an A/N for the first chapter… and a disclaimer. we're SO excited about this story… and on an even brighter note, we have a shit ton of it done so there won't be any long waits or anything.**

**and yeah, we're not SM, we don't own twilight, we only own our storyline.**

**anyway, thanks for reading! enjoy!**

_And there's a heart that still can beat  
With every breath that's inside me  
And find the spark that's buried deep  
It won't go out  
So, please, don't let go  
We can crawl out of the shadows.  
_"Out of the Shadows" Matthew Perryman Jones

"Fucking hell," I groan and push Walt's slobbering face away from mine. "It's too early for this shit."

I pull my sheets up over my head and turn my back to the huge slobbering beast next to me. He steps on my back with one really fucking heavy paw and starts tugging at the sheet, inadvertently scratching my back in a not so relaxing kind of way.

"Walt," I say sternly and fling my arm out blindly to push him away. He keeps dodging my pathetic attempts at pushing him away and grabs at the sheet by my neck with his teeth.

I throw the covers off and twist until I'm sitting up slightly. He starts lapping at my face again. I take his head in between my hands and say, "If you don't stop I swear to god you're sleeping on the couch tonight."

He whines and then jumps off of the bed and runs to the door. At the entryway he turns, barks once, and starts wagging his tail.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming."

I drop back onto my pillows and close my eyes but the peace lasts for maybe twenty seconds before Walt barks again. "Dude," I snap and slap my hands down hard on the bed, pushing myself off of it.

My feet hit the floor and it's cold and I want to go back to sleep but that's obviously not an option. Last night ran pretty late for a Tuesday.

I splash cold water onto my face and rub it hard a few times.

Once I'm in my running clothes I walk into the kitchen and make a quick shitty cup of coffee and put water for Walt. I point a finger at him and say, "You better drink that. I don't want your pansy ass dehydrating and passing out halfway through."

He grunts at me and starts lapping up the water. I switch the computer on to read the news with my coffee. It's all negative. Everything is negative. A huge fucking contrast to the way the sun is shining through my window right now. I don't want to look at this shit. Walt's cold wet nose pushes into the warm spot behind my knee. I jump and then shut down the computer.

"Let's get on with it then." I connect his leash even though he doesn't need it at all, he sticks to my side like my own personal four-legged shadow.

He's already breathing heavily from all of his tail wagging and his anticipation to go outside.

Being a dog is a lesson in why simple is so much fucking better.

We break out of the door and I glance quickly at the bar to make sure it's all locked up and looking the way it should and then we take off. Two feet, four paws pounding mercilessly into the pavement. Good fucking morning.

* * *

My parents don't understand what I find appealing about owning a bar. They accept and they support but they don't understand why I'd want to spend endless nights getting people that need to forget wasted.

It's so much more than that though.

There is something so intimate about bars. It's a personal experience especially when you have regulars—people that come in daily, people that drink their beer or their vodka or even wine and tell you about their wives that refuse to have sex with them because they're not making enough money.

It's a sip and tell.

Secrets, desires, dreams, fears, insecurities… they all come out. And everyone, every single person winds down to those five simple things. You can be black, white, gay, straight, male or female, but when you push all the shit aside, when you get rid of all of the exterior crap, everyone boils down to those five things.

It's fascinating, really.

I slide a Heineken in front of my friend Emmett.

"So?" I ask and lean back against the wall, arms crossed. "How was last night?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "That girl is like an exact replica of her mother but she's just a complete fucking idiot. She's gorgeous, you know, but every time she opened her mouth I wanted to backhand her."

"She couldn't have been that bad. Don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's like being Michael Jordan's son but being only half like Michael Jordan. Like you can be like, 'Oh, yeah, right here right here, pass me da ball,' but you suck."

I laugh at the sheer devastation on his face.

"And her mom is so hot," he continues. "Like, perfect. Total fucking perfection. So I figured yeah the genes would pass on. But god fucking forbid."

"You know the deal with married women," I remind him. He rolls his eyes. "Seriously, Em. It's a one, maybe two time thing and then it's over."

"What's the big fuckin' deal, dude? It's not like she fucks that tool that she's married to… who, by the way, is where the daughter got her fucking empty head from."

"The deal is it's bad news. Move on."

He finishes off his beer and then slides it back to me. "Thanks for the chat, Oprah. I have to get back to work. I'll see you tonight."

* * *

I crack my neck and turn some Zeppelin on. I'm in the mood for his sound right now. It's only Wednesday and it's only 7:00. There's only one person sitting at the bar—Harold—who always comes in as soon as I open at 6 and stays until I close. He rarely speaks, just sits and watches and drinks Scotch.

His wife left him last year for one of the interns that was working at her job. He never recovered.

I wipe the bar down just for something to do.

"Ya good, Harold?" I ask because he's been nursing that glass for longer than usual.

"Bring me another one," he says and finishes off the last drops of his drink.

"Isn't your niece's birthday party tonight?"

He nods. "I gotta go for a little while. Make an appearance."

"You get her a present?"

"A doll," he replies and takes the newly filled glass from my hand. "She's a good kid."

"How old's she turning?"

"Seven." He shakes his head. "Just wanna tell her to stay where she's at. Growing up is overrated."

I nod sympathetically. It's gonna be one of those nights for him. Just as I'm about to answer, the door opens.

A girl who doesn't even look old enough to buy a pack of cigarettes walks in. Her eyes dart around the room nervously before she apparently decides to sit at the bar.

Her hair is brown, long—pretty but plain. Her eyes are huge and are still bouncing all over the place, looking at everything but me. And her hands are pale, fingers wound tightly together.

"Hey, sweetheart," I say and walk over to stand right in front of her, "I'm gonna need to see some form of ID."

Her eyes widen slightly, becoming even larger than they already were. "What? Why would I come in if I wasn't old enough? And how do you even know if it's a real ID or a fake one? I mean, do you even know the percentage of under age kids who have fake IDs?"

The words come fast, auction announcer fast, and when she finishes her speech, her eyes open even wider, impossibly wider, and she swallows hard and just stares at me.

I lean on the bar with my elbows, getting closer to her, and smirk. "I've heard every story before. And you don't look like you're a day older than 17. So if you don't mind…" I let my voice trail off and hold my hand out.

She lifts up her hand and takes her thumb into her mouth and starts biting on it. She has like 85 different nervous habits. Her left hand dips into her bag and she pulls out a wallet which she promptly hands to me. I lift an eyebrow and open it up.

"Just because someone looks 17 doesn't mean they are. What kind of stories could you have possibly heard? This doesn't really look like the kind of place kids would come to looking to score some beer."

The words come spilling out of her mouth so quickly again, as if she hasn't spoken for days and is afraid she won't have anyone to speak to again for a while. Like, she needs to just get it all out now.

Her ID claims that she's 24 and it's authentic. I pass her wallet back to her. "I told every type of story when I was trying to score some beer, Isabella," I tell her. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Oh," she pauses and frowns slightly. "I hadn't really thought that far. I've only really ever had what people offered me. You know, like spiked punch or a beer. I don't even know what I like."

The wallet that she's still clutching in her hand falls to the floor. I watch as her head disappears beneath the bar and lean forward to warn her to watch her head but she smacks it hard on the way up. She looks at me, tears welling in her big brown eyes, and clutches her head.

Her eyes dart to the door and then back to me. "I'm just gonna go. Thanks for being a responsible business man and checking my ID. I just, I think I need ice."

"I have ice here," I tell her and fight the urge to laugh. But she looks so cute standing there trying to fight off her tears. I've hit my head there more than once and it fucking kills.

She shakes her head and shoves her wallet into her bag. "I need my ice, at my apartment. Not that your ice is bad. This is just so not…"

She doesn't even finish her sentence, just spins around and all but runs out of the door.

I shake my head and laugh.

What the fuck was that?

* * *

"Finn, man, what are you doing?" I groan and swat at his little hand gently.

"You've been asleep for forever," he informs me. I open my eyes and he's sitting on the coffee table in front of me, swinging his legs back and forth. "And I'm hungry. And bored."

"Oh, well excuse me," I tell him and tug on his arm until he's sitting on my stomach. "Why didn't you ask Walt if you could borrow some of his food?"

He giggles and lays down until his head is on my chest. "Daddy, I can't eat Walt's food. That's for doggies."

I can't understand how people can have kids and give them away. After I saw Finn for the first time… I mean, I was fucking enamored. Terrified but absolutely fucking in love with him. "You're right, you're right," I tell him. "So what do you want to eat?"

He leans up on his elbows and smiles his big smile. "I want ice cweam."

I laugh and push his little glasses back up his nose. "For dinner?"

He nods. "With spinkles."

"Spinkles or sprinkles?"

He giggles when I tickle his sides. "I don't know. Spinkles. They the same."

"How 'bout…" I begin and pretend to think for a moment. "How 'bout we eat some actual dinner and then after, if we're still hungry, we can go get sundaes from the ice cream store?"

He sits up and claps excitedly. "Okay. Can we go now?"

"Yeah, let's just give Walt some food first."

I put my hands around his little body and lift him up high into the air as I stand up. He laughs and then I settle him on my shoulders. "Walt!" Finn yells, giggling and holding onto my head. "Are you hungwy?"

Walt comes, nails clacking on the wooden floor, and starts leaping next to me. Finn laughs and plays the top of my head like a bongo. "Look, daddy, he's hungwy."

"Yeah, buddy, I got that," I say with a laugh and grab his hands to swing him down onto the kitchen counter. "You're not wearing any shoes."

I pour water into Walt's bowl before setting it down on the floor for him. "Cause you can carry me."

"What if," I begin and pour two cups of food into the other bowl for Walt. "What if I need you to carry me?"

He laughs again and kicks his legs against the counter. "You're so silly," he says. "You're too big. I can't carry you."

"Don't move from there," I tell him and point a finger at him. "Watch Walt and make sure he doesn't eat the plate."

He nods and laughs again. He's so fucking happy. That's the thing about kids—they're just happy. It's amazing to be around, to witness someone that's been completely unaffected by the shittiness of the world yet.

I walk into the living room and grab his shoes before going back into the kitchen. And he's sitting there talking to Walt who's too busy eating to pay attention to him.

"I got your shoes, Huck," I tell him and take his tiny little right foot into my hand.

He sighs at me no doubt because he doesn't understand why I call him Huck when his name is Finn. "So, where should we go for dinner?"

"Wendy's!" he says excitedly and claps.

I laugh and put the other shoe on. "We had Wendy's last time. How 'bout pizza?"

"Can I get ronis on mine?"

"Pepperoni?" I ask.

"Yeah."

I bring down off of the counter and rub his head. "Yeah, man, you can have pepperoni."

"Okay. I hafta say bye to Walt." He pulls his hand from mine and walks over to where Walt is now lapping up water noisily. Finn puts his hand on Walt's head and pats him. "We're going to get dinner, Walt. Don't be afraid by yourself." Then he leans down and kisses the dog right on top of his head. "I love you. See you soon."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N- t&a- couldn't love the lot of you more. The reviews have bowled us over, to the point that we're delivering on the promise and here's another chapter (quick eh?). **

**Special nod to Sadiyah and her patience for my lack of grammatical knowledge….**

**As always, we don't own, we just borrow and mold to fit our moods…**

_This song's going to you_

_The one who's so confused_

_The one who feels so used_

_You don't have to wait_

_For all this silly fate_

_For things you cannot make_

_Hey, what are you going to say?_

_What are you going to do?_

_When it's all said and done_

_Said and Done- Meiko_

I cross my legs carefully trying to not knock off the ice pack balanced precariously on the top on my head. My computer hums and comes to life and I feel grounded again. That was a terrible idea. Almost enough for me to ignore all urges to ever branch out again. I reach my head up tentatively to press at the definite lump on my head and wince at the pain that results.

Stupid hard bar. Stupid wallet. Stupid over confident bartender. This could all have been avoided if he had simply let me attempt to order. But, no. Instead he had to card me and launch my already troubled head into fits of worry about my ID being fake. Not that it is. It's real, but how would he know that?

I work my fingers over the keys and pull up Facebook. The tingle of anticipation builds as the page loads. I actually have something to say, something to report for once. Instead of simply replying to other people's stories and problems I have something to offer. I skip over the changes in my 'friends' profiles and open my own, prepared to spill my adventure onto my wall.

Just as I open the dialogue box, a chat box appears. I lose the careful hold on my ice bag and I swear under my breath as it falls underneath my futon. My eyes dart from the screen to the floor, unable to pick a winner. My fingers choose for me.

_Alice Brandon- there you are. i was wondering if you were going to be on tonight…_

I smile at the remark. Alice isn't someone I would have naturally become friends with. She was destined for a more remarkable storyline. Born into old money, with a trust fund the size of a small country. If we hadn't been placed as roommates in the freshman dorms we would have never crossed paths. Not that we really did a lot together in college. The after college friendship has been much more substantial. For some reason its easier to talk to Alice through a computer than in person.

_Isabella Swan- sorry. i actually met someone tonight._

I should have held back the information, made her sweat it out of me, but I'm not and will never be that cool. I chew on my thumb nail as I wait for her response. The coppery taste of blood taints my mouth and I pull my finger from my mouth. Groaning I wrap it in my t–shirt. I need to lay off the thumb for a bit.

_Alice Brandon- like a boy?_

I roll my eyes at her response. Not that I can blame her for the reaction. My entire dating history as Alice knows it consists of three eager project partners and one overly drunk frat boy.

_Isabella Swan- no a tarantula. yes a boy._

My leg twitches in anticipation. Usually I'm the sounding board for Alice's problems and excitement. She never has an end to her stories. Her trust fund has made her into a jack of all trades. Since college she's tried at least 10 careers looking for the 'prefect fit', currently she's learning to be a pastry chef.

_Alice Brandon- and…._

I can't stop my mouth from falling open. And? AND this is the first time I've even attempted to ask her to listen or share just an ounce of excitement. AND I've listened/read 100s of her stories about dates and awful bosses. I grit my teeth and take the time to fish under the bed for my ice pack. She can wait.

_Alice Brandon- well tell me about him!_

I smile and feel the excitement bubble back up. I almost take my thumb nail back between my teeth, but stop just in time to avoid blood. The images of the bartender flood my memory.

_Isabella Swan- he owns a bar near my work and has all these tattoos_

I stare at the words after I send them off and scowl. That is nowhere near doing him justice.

_Alice Brandon- uh oh! an authentic bad boy? What happened to my freshman roommate?_

Her words drag a full smile across my face. Just that lacking description has given me a new level of interest. I don't even know his name and he's already making my story more exciting.

_Isabella Swan- we just really connected_

That's sort of true. He was there when my head connected with the bar. The ice on my head starts to melt and I shiver as an ice trail begins to run down my back.

_Alice Brandon- so when are you going to see him again?_

My eyebrows furrow as I read her question. Honestly? I'll see him tomorrow from the window of my cubicle in fat pill hell, but actually see him? I'm not sure I face him any time soon. It took me days to work up the courage to open the door. And after the show I put on today it'll take me weeks to look him in the eye much less speak to him.

_Isabella Swan- I'm going to make him work for next time_

Or really I'll be seating out trying to talk myself back into that bar. By the time I feel comfortable under his relentless gaze he'll probably have forgotten all about my little episode today.

_Alice Brandon- when did you become such a tease?_

I giggle at her words and toss the ice pack to the side. I slide down the futon and curl around my lap top. I feel changed, weathered. The conversations drifts back towards Alice and her frustration with all things butter cream, but my high can't be touched. Isabella Swan had a story to tell.

I rode the high of the enigma bartender for week, heading Alice off with small details of possible future interactions and his imagined attempts to get in touch with me. Every conversation fed my craving, my need to be a lead character rather than a face in the background.

I slip in my ear buds and take the stairs quickly. I'm almost ready to do a pass by of the bar again. Ready for that tingle of possibility that I might see him. I let my hands trail along the rough brick of a building as I walk, losing myself in my ability to disappear on the streets and already putting together a new story for Alice later tonight.

I glance down at my watch and decide to venture into the park. I have fifteen minutes and I feel that kind of day coming on. I plunge into the park and smile as the sunlight is broken up in patches my the trees. The noise is overpowered by my ipod and I only hesitate a second before slipping my feet out of my ballet flats and roaming off the path to feel the cool grass under my toes.

The moment is almost sublime and I can see the scene being written out. Blissful, peaceful, and… wet. The shriek pulls itself from my mouth before I can realize what's happening. A large dog is pawing my torso my legs and every other part of my body it can reach, its wet tongue and nose pressing into my stomach and heads and thank god missing my face.

My body tenses and I pull my arms up over m y head trying to give the monster less to assault. My eyes roam the park looking for someone to save me, or at least claim the beast in front of me. The large paws settle on my breasts and my mouth falls open. The first time in years someone/something has copped a feel and its a dog. Suddenly bronze and black and white appear in front of me. I can't move even though Kujo has been removed.

When I am sure there is no damage I lower my arms and look at my attacker. The large dog is panting heavily, drool falling from its huge lips. I shift my gaze slightly to the left and take in the basketball shorts, then up to a white v neck, dark with sweat and then the face. My faces flushes impossibly redder. Of course the groping dog would be owned by him. At least this will make a good story for my wall later.

By the time my eyes meet his face I watch his mouth moving but still only hear the music in my ears. I feel my brow furrow.

"What?" I ask. He laughs and shakes his head before reaching forward and plucking one bud from my ear. He smiles at me and I attempt a reply, but I'm sure I don't succeed.

"Sorry about Walt, he likes boobs," he states. Seriously? That's his apology. I shake my head and rip my other ear bud out.

"Your dog likes boobs? How would you even know that? Do you let him watch porn? God that's wrong," I reply. I can just picture them sitting on a couch together watching some awful celebrity sex tape. Not even one of the good ones. His smile widens and I am a little baffled. Does nothing wipe that off his face?

"It's healthy to be curious and Walt's a big boy. Nothing wrong with a little bit of porn," he answers. Well, there you have it. I guess if they watched the good stuff and as long as Bartender didn't pull his…equipment out in front of him….

"You really should invest in a leash and just because you're dog has a healthy boob appetite does not make it ok for him to grab random people in the park. Teach your dog some manners," I scold. He just shakes his head before throwing the dog what I think is a scolding look. I take the moment to take him in again. The black and color bleeding over his skin. I can only see pieces as he moves and I want him to stand still so I can give Alice a good description.

He turns his eyes back on me and I watch as he reaches out to press his fingers against the top of my head.

"How's you head?" he asks. And of course he would remember. This officially a comedy reel. "The magic ice at your place do you any good?"

And now he's making fun of me. I cross my hands over my chest and glare just a little bit. I try to pull together the perfect response, a few huff of breath escaping in the process.

"It did a fantastic job thanks. Magical powers and all able to dissolve the pain of an abnormally hard bar. What is that thing even made of?" I demand. He laughs and scuffs his feet a little against the pavement.

"I don't know. Come back tonight and check it out. I'll even get you that drink on the house," he offers. His voice is soft and sweet and he could lure someone into serious harm with that thing. Maybe he should be cast as a villain. I'm overwhelmed by the idea of letting him enter my story again and the unknown turn it might take. I clench my fists and feel the weight of my watch. My eyes dart down to the numbers and my heart races.

"I don't know if that's a good idea. I don't even know what I would order. And it was really nice of you to be so nice about your dog being a pervert but I'm going to be late for work and I'm never late for work, so I really need to go," I spit out. I almost trip over the hem of my pants as I try to shove my feet back into my shoes. Just as I'm ready to bolt a warm hand covers my bicep.

"Hey," his voice is softer, impossibly more soothing. "We'll figure out what you like. It's the least I can do. Come by when you get off or I'll come and find you." He raises a pierced eye brow menacingly and I sigh. It would be something new. And he does have really soft hands and the ability to translate my babble.

"Sure. I need to go," I repeat. He releases me arm and I turn and leave before he can stop me. I'm halfway down the street before the whole scene really pieces together in my mind. His soft eyes, the clean lines of his tattoos and the monster. I am officially interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N-t&a- ummm… seriously, you guys are fucking amazing. we are so, so, **_**so **_**thrilled that you're all enjoying this story especially because we enjoyed the hell out of writing it. another quickie for you all *ahem*.**

**anyway… we know you know we don't own but we have to say it anyway. hope you all enjoy!**

_Get up, get out, get away from these liars  
Cause they don't get your soul or your fire  
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine  
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time.  
"Open Your Eyes" _Snow Patrol

The girl with the wild, child-like eyes makes me laugh.

If someone were to ask me why I told her to come by tonight, I'd say that. The girl's not my style. She's weird and jittery and kind of crazy and she talks way too fast, but she's funny as fuck.

Plus, she looked like she was gonna shit herself when Walt jumped at her. I felt sort of bad. Well, until she got that angry little affronted look on her face when she realized he was pawing her tits. She looked like she felt seriously violated.

Getting molested by a dog.

I laughed until I started wondering what kind of face she'd make if I pawed her tits.

And then I got hard, invited her to the bar, and booked it.

Not because I'm embarrassed of a little wood—can't control that shit—but I'm pretty sure she would've keeled over and died if she noticed.

I get dressed quickly in just jeans and a black t-shirt, run my hands through my hair to get the excess water out, and sling my dog tag around my neck.

"Hey, perv," I say and pat Walt's head. "I'll be downstairs. Call me if you need me."

He thumps his tail and closes his eyes.

I take the stairs down to the bar and start opening everything up. I know the girl is gonna show up. How do I know? Because of the way she looks at me. She gets nervous and she babbles but when she thinks I'm not looking she stares like she's trying to memorize me.

"Hey, Harold," I say without looking up when the door opens. He's always the first one in, it's routine by now.

"Actually, it's Bella—not Harold. Although, I guess I've been called worse things and if it's a nickname, I wouldn't mind."

My head snaps up and there's the girl standing just inside of the doorway, frozen, both hands clutching the strap of her bag like a lifeline. I expected her but not this early.

"You gonna come in or are you manning the door for the night, Bella?"

She walks clumsily, like a baby on new legs, towards the stool farthest from where I'm standing and sits down. She looks down at the bar and starts tracing patterns into it.

"Were you very late for work?" I ask and walk slowly towards her, as if I'm approaching a terrified little animal that might run away.

"Almost. Three minutes. But someone had a birthday or a baby or something so I snuck in without trouble."

She still hasn't looked up at me.

I start mixing a drink for her, hoping that either my inattentiveness or the alcohol will make her relax slightly. "What is it that you do?"

I look up at the sound of her laughter but it's not really a funny laugh. "I sell something that doesn't work to people who shouldn't buy it and then I get a little pat on the back when I succeed. I basically suck."

I slide the drink in front of her and she looks at it warily. "Try that. Tell me if you like it and be honest."

Her small hand wraps around the glass and she brings it up to her full lips. Her nerves make her hands shake slightly and some of the drink spills out onto the bar. She takes a sip and winces, her body shudders once hard. I bite back my urge to laugh.

"That tastes like the stuff my mom used to give me when I said I had a cold. I hated it so much I never told my mom when I was sick."

I laugh. "We'll save it for later then." I take it back and start making her another.

"So," I begin as I start mixing new ingredients. "You basically suck? Is that what you said?"

"That seems like the gist. At least I have a moral compass, right? It'd be worse if I did all of this and didn't care. What do you do? I mean… wait, forget I said that."

I laugh and slide the next drink in front of her. "Does it make your customers happy?"

She pulls the drink to her and then her tongue darts out and licks the rim before she takes a small sip. "This tastes like candy," she breathes out, eyes wide, awe and surprise written clearly on her face.

And then I watch in mild fascination as she tips the glass and downs the entire thing. "Be easy, girl, it's only 6:30."

"That is definitely my new favorite. I couldn't even taste the alcohol. What's it called?"

I look up. "I just made it up," I tell her. "Should we name it after you?"

Her mouth falls open a little before she tries to chew on her thumbnail which is covered in a beige band-aid. "Name it after something memorable," she says. "Not me. Like your dog or the first girl you couldn't get enough of."

I hand her another filled glass. "It's pink, Bella. A pink drink named Walt would look ridiculous. Same goes for Pamela, which isn't really a pink name, but she was the first girl I wacked off to."

Her eyes widen, a lot, and then she says, "Well then name it after something pink. Just not me. Drinks named after me wouldn't sell and then, if your bar went under and your dog went hungry, I would never forgive myself. Just don't name it after me."

"It'd probably turn people off if a drink named pussy was on the menu."

Her mouth falls open and her cheeks turn bright red. "Oh, well. Name it whatever you want, I guess."

I laugh and she hands the empty glass to me. "La Bella. It's got a nice sound, don't you think?"

"You know what I think about naming a drink after me. But you're the boss and what you say goes I guess. So, great. I hope it's a big hit."

"So? What do you sell?" I ask and hand her another drink.

She keeps her eyes down as she says, "Diet pills. Which are a joke because they don't really work, but people think they do because they see them on tv."

I laugh, loudly, trying to picture this crazy, wide-eyed girl lie to people all day long. "That sounds too dishonest for you to pull off."

She laughs a little bit, a little bitterly, and looks up at me. "I just read lines."

"So… do you need a degree to do something like that? Like, telemarketers 101? Or how to con people classes?"

Once the words are out I realize that they sound a little mean and a lot judgmental. I don't know anything about this girl or her circumstances.

She looks down again and plays with the condensation on the glass before lifting it to her lips and downing it's contents. In one shot. Again.

A soft spot, clearly.

"Need a degree? Hardly. I think there are people there who only know the English written on the page. But I do have a degree. For what it's worth. Which it seems is $9.50 an hour."

"A degree in?" I ask and take the glass from her. I purposely brush my fingers against hers. Sometimes a little contact is necessary and she looks like she could use a lot of it.

She smiles up at me and it's looser than any of the faces that she's ever made at me. A lot more relaxed. Thank you, La Bella.

"Art history. Can't you tell?"

"Oh, yeah," I say and lean forward. I press my finger to the smooth skin between her eyebrows and drag it down to the tip of her nose. "It's all written right there, in fine print. Can't believe I missed it."

The lazy little smile appears again before she lays her arm down on the bar and then rests her cheek on it. Her eyes don't close, they stay trained on me. "Can I have another La Bella? I think they might have a little magic in them… or at least something that makes me feel fantastically fuzzy."

I shrug. "You can have whatever you want as long as you're not walking home by yourself. Can any of your friends come pick you up later?" I ask as I start mixing the ingredients again.

"Sure. If you go grab my computer they can all walk me home."

I narrow my eyes at her and slide the drink over to her. "Well, if that's a no, you can crash here."

She takes a small sip and closes her eyes. "I don't think a bar is a great place to sleep. Besides, I can walk—I feel fine and it's not like anything would happen to me. That would be a deviation. Trust me."

I laugh. "Hang on a sec, girl, I've got a customer. Sit up and look alive."

I wait for her to nod before I walk to the other end of the bar to take care of the people that just walked in. I look at my watch quickly… Tony should be here any minute now. My eyes drift to the girl who's holding her drink like a lover and swaying slightly to the Zeppelin that's still playing. I smile and shake my head and pour two more beers before I look over at her again to make sure she hasn't fallen off of the stool.

She's in what looks like a serious conversation with Harold. I pour a drink for Harold and for myself and walk back over.

"This here jackass thought you were me?" I hear Harold ask her and she nods emphatically. "What's wrong with you? You blind or something?" he asks me when he sees me. "This girl's a hell of a lot prettier than me."

I look between the two of them and nod thoughtfully. "Yeah. Yeah, she's a lot prettier than you are."

Bella giggles again and blushes slightly. "How'd the party go, Harold?" I ask and wipe down the bar.

He shrugs. "Why're you talkin' to me when you've got a pretty girl sittin' right here wanting to talk to you?" he asks with a shake of his head. "I swear to god, you've got no skill, Edward."

"Edward," Bella sounds out. She looks like she's trying to figure out how it feels in her mouth. She takes another sip of her drink before saying, "I guess it suits you. It's not what I would have picked, but I think it'll grow on me."

"Oh, well, thank god. That's a huge relief," I say sarcastically.

The smile that spreads on her face is the biggest and most authentic I've seen from her. Ever. "You're welcome."

"You gonna crash here, Bella?"

"I think I'm good to walk. Don't you think, Harold?" I watch as she tries to get off the stool and disappears entirely from sight.

I lean forward to try to see if she's okay but I can't see her at all. I walk around quickly and she's sitting there, curled up, retying her shoelaces. "Bella." I hold out my hand and pull her up. "You're not even okay to stand. You'll fall and get hit by a car and I'll have the guilt of your death on me for the rest of my life. Just sleep over."

"I haven't had a sleepover since the 7th grade and I hated it. They froze my bra and wrote on my face with lipstick," she says and frowns up at me.

I smooth her hair back off of her face. "The only thing I'll ever do with your bra is take it off of you," I say with a small smile and kiss her cheek. The girl is sad. I know only because that vacancy, the loneliness, in her eyes is something that I used to be extremely familiar with. It's what being misplaced looks like—being somewhere where you don't belong and having no one to belong to.

"I promise. Come on upstairs with me."

She just nods and presses herself into my side. "Tony," I call out, "I'll be back in a few minutes. You okay?"

He waves me off and I pull Bella towards the door. "You feeling okay? Want me to make you some food or something?" I ask her as I push the door open.

"No, thank you," she says in a tiny quiet voice.

I pull her tighter into my side as we climb the stairs together. "You sure? Don't be shy now."

"No. I feel fine. Heavy, but good. You're taking very good care of me."

I laugh and unlock the door to my apartment. Walt comes flying to the door, nails sliding against the hardwood floor. I put a hand up in his face when Bella turns completely into my side. "Hold your shit together, buddy," I tell him and pat his head. "Don't scare our guest."

Bella's still tucked into my side, her cheek against my chest. "So, the bathroom is right there," I tell her as we start walking further into the place. "And there's aspirin in the kitchen in the drawer under the microwave if you need any."

I only feel her nod minutely against my chest. "And this is my bedroom. Do you want something more comfortable to sleep in?"

I watch her as she looks down and assesses her outfit—a skirt and a t-shirt. "I'm okay," she says, finally looking up at me, "but I don't want to get your bed dirty with my shoes. Should I take them off?"

I laugh and touch the side of her face for a second. "Please do. I don't want you accidentally kicking me in the balls in the middle of the night."

She pulls away from me and her eyes widen slightly. Her hands wrap around the strap of her bag until her knuckles turn white. "I don't want to put you out. I can still walk home. I promise I won't talk to any strangers."

I tug on the strap of her bag until she releases it and put it down on my chair. "Put me out? First of all, the bed is huge. Second of all, you would talk to strangers. And third, no guy with functional eyesight and a working dick would be opposed to having a cute little girl sleep in his bed."

I fight back my laughter when her mouth falls open into a perfect o before she nods and crawls into my bed. She pulls the comforters up to her chin, clutching the blanket as if she's afraid I might rip it off of her.

"Should I stay until you fall asleep?"

"Not unless you want to," she whispers. "I know you should be working. Thank you so much, Edward. I won't take up much room or blankets. Promise." Her words trail off on a yawn and I sort of want to just say fuck it and get under the covers with her.

I do the next best thing and go and sit next to her with one hand on the other side of her hip, closing her in. "I could sing you a lullaby."

"Mmmm, whatever you want, Edward." Her eyes are drooping and her voice is so small.

I clear my throat and stroke her cheek with the backs of my fingers and hum Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to her. It's Finn's favorite and so, the first to pop into my head.

She's watching me through heavy eyes. I finish the song and whisper, "Goodnight, Bella." I lean down and kiss the tip of her nose.

"Goodnight, Edward."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N- t&a- a couple of housekeeping items…**

**this is a collab. The fantastic astilbe13 and I are writing this together. Its posted under both of our profiles, so there's no stealing happening between us**

**not sure what breed of dog walt is. We have a pic we could post if you all want?**

**now that we're done with that…THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for the reviews. you're kind of blowing our minds…**

**once again, we don't have the pleasure of owning these fabulous characters, but we're having a good time borrowing them….**

_Every day I wake up,_

_Hummin' a song._

_But I don't need to run around,_

_I just stay home._

_And sing a little love song,_

_My love, to myself._

_If there's something that you want to hear,_

_You can sing it yourself._

_Gillian Welch- Everything is Free_

Mornings are my least favorite thing. There is something about being ripped from sleep, where everything is possible and beautiful, into the harsh reality where you sleep on a futon and sell diet pills that always makes me nauseous in the morning. It probably doesn't help that this morning my head feels like lead. Especially heavy lead, that was dipped in steel.

I burry my face further into my pillow and guard my eyes from the light that rudely pours in every morning. Sleep must still be on my brain because my pillow is abnormally compliant and smells way too good to have been washed in my fragrance-free Tide.

The weight and pain in my head force my sleep to stay at bay. I try to pull last night into my consciousness, but all I can recall is going to the bar, having a pink drink and then…nothing. Obviously the blandness of my life repeats itself and I have evaded any possible excitement.

Just as I am determined to face the light, something wet and cold hits the back of my knee. My vocal cords freeze with the sensation. My mind fills with any possible, logical, rational explanation for such a feeling. Nothing remotely comforting comes to mind. I force several deep breaths in and out of my mouth and into the pillow, determined not to panic yet.

The wetness then moves up the back of my thigh, leaving a sticky trail behind it. Rational just left the building. The scream builds in my chest and just as the wetness meets the back of my bare neck I pull my face from the pillow and wail. Maybe a neighbor will hear and come, not that I know any of my neighbors. That would insinuate socializing outside my comfort zone, which is not something I do.

My eyes are bleary from the pink drink as they dart around the room. I wait for the familiar odds and ends to come into focus, but they don't. Everything around me is simple, minimalistic and sure as hell not mine. All man and metal and…toys? The wetness is relentless, now focusing in the exposed skin on my face.

I clamp my mouth shut to keep any of the wet from entering there. I don't know what it is and I don't want it in my mouth. The large form is now in front of me and I'm sure I must be dreaming, or nightmaring. I'm in a strange place, with a monster trying to swallow my head. I open my mouth to scream again, but a hand clamps over it. The simple action makes my panic rise, but then I hear chuckling.

"Bella. Bella, shut up."

I look up into the smirking eyes and my panic ebbs slightly. I know him. Well more like I know who he is. The details aren't there. His eyes keep my gaze and I watch as the monster, i.e. the dog, trots off towards a food bowl in the far corner. My eyes dart around once more, now being able to place this room as possibly his.

A few shuddering breaths are expelled through my nose and I fix my eyes back on him and his hand which is still firmly over my mouth. I rear my head back and he pulls his hand away.

"Why am I here? Did you lace my drink with something? I knew it tasted too good. Do all date rape drugs taste that good?" I know the words coming out of my mouth don't really make sense and I should be a little more worried about the possibility that I have been violated, but something deep inside of me, which apparently has a huge pull in my thoughts, is slightly ok with being violated by him.

He falls back on the bed laughing and shaking his head. I curl my legs underneath myself and find something kind of reassuring about the fact that I am still fully dressed in the clothes I wore last night. That's a good sign right?

"I wouldn't have had to drug you even if I wanted to. Is you tolerance normally that low?" He chuckles. His eyes are twinkling and that pushes me off the edge. I cross my arms firmly over my chest and glare at him. This is not funny. I don't do things like this. It may be normal for him to have strange women in his bed, but this isn't me. But maybe that's ok.

"Just because I'm not an all out lush and can't drink by the barrels doesn't mean my tolerance is low. And what do you mean you wouldn't have had to drug me? You think I want to sleep with you? Isn't that a little presumptuous?" I bite back. I know that I haven't had a lot of experience with alcohol or men, but he doesn't know that. For all he knows I have a serious boyfriend and drink every night.

"You want my shit so badly girl," he smirks. My mouth falls open. This seems to only amuse him more. I shake my head and try to gather my senses back to me. A deep breath through my mouth and it feels fury. Oh everything holy and sweet. I grasp my hand over my own mouth and dart my eyes around. My purse is sitting in a chair in the corner and I glare at him as I crawl off the bed. It's an enormous bed. And obviously much more comfortable than a futon, but that's beside the point. I hit a stuffed bear at the end and look back at him and he shrugs offering no explanation.

"You are so….so….." I can't even find the words as I dig through my purse. My hand grasps my toothbrush and I pull it out clutching it to my chest. I glance back at the laughing man on the bed and he points towards a door. I march through it and slam it behind me for good measure.

Once inside my heart goes into overdrive. What is going on here? This is not part of my story. Things go along slowly, steadily, mind numbingly for me. Bumps like this are avoided. But when you wander into strange bars looking for men who shouldn't attract you, everything apparently goes to hell. I turn on the faucet and stick my toothbrush under. I hesitate before using his toothpaste, but my oral hygiene wins out.

I begin the mental count as I scrub my teeth furiously. My mind is at odds with itself. I want to be mortified, terrified of where I am. I should be. My father would want me to be, but I can't find it in me to hate this situation like I should.

This is what I have been craving. Something different, a reason to look twice at my pathetic history thus far. I feel a tingle pass through me as I think about the man behind the door. Once again I try to remember what got me here. I remember the pink drink, the unassuming questions and then a small revelation. Edward. At some point in my obviously perfect mental state I did get his name.

I brush my tongue harder and longer than normal and rinse twice. I look at myself in the mirror and tease myself into thinking maybe I look at little more intriguing today. A little less like scenery. My eyes dart around the bathroom, taking in my surroundings. Everything screams man. Everything except the Mr. Bubbles bubble bath sitting on the edge of the tub and a bucket of bath toys hidden under the sink. I slam the cupboard shut and feel guilty. I'm peeping around his personal things. Just because he likes childlike things doesn't mean anything. He does seem a little like an overgrown child.

I push the door open slowly, half expecting the whole room to morph into my own sad little studio, but its as I left it. With a large dog now in the center of the bed and Edward laying next to him rubbing his ears. His head turns towards me as I enter the room.

"Were you taking a dump in there?" he asks. I freeze where I am and my mouth drops open again. I swear to God I am going to swallow a fly in this man's presence. My hands go to my hips, toothbrush still clutched in one. I grit my teeth and shake my head.

"No I wasn't. There is no way I would do that here. I don't even know you and, no I just couldn't. I was brushing my teeth you foul, foul man," I state. I march over to my bag and shove the toothbrush in, forgoing the plastic cover.

"It takes you ten minutes to brush your teeth?" he asks raising an eyebrow. I run my tongue over my teeth and lips and take him in. I can see more of his tattoos in his white t-shirt. I shake the mental inventory out of my head.

"I like taking my time. It makes my teeth feel shiny," I admit. There are few things better than the feel of really clean teeth under a tongue, all slippery in the best way. It doesn't hurt that I've never had a cavity and the way my dentist praises me always make me feel like its some sort of enormous achievement.

Edward props himself up into a sitting position and mimics my visual inventory. I squirm a little under his gaze.

"What exactly does shiny feel like?" he asks. My tongue immediately seeks out my teeth again, savoring in the slick surface. The minty tang of the toothpaste just adds to the sensation. Surely he's had his teeth cleaned before? Doesn't everyone enjoy a clean set of teeth? I sigh trying to find the right words.

"Like slick and wet and sweet somehow. Like everything is perfectly in line and you can almost feel the whiteness," I breathe. I never said I was a writer or good with words. I tear my eyes from his and look to the side. What the hell was that? What am I doing here sharing prose about my freshly brushed teeth with this man who seems to think I want to have sex with him?

"Slick and sweet and wet? It sounds like pussy," he smiles. My mouth drops again and I shut it immediately trying to swallow and gather some kind of coherent thought. I've never really heard that word fall from someone's mouth in person. Reading or hearing it in videos where its every other word people say is different. Coming from him it sounds so nonchalant. Like he's talking about milk or bread or something equally as innocent.

He pushes himself off the bed and takes several steps towards me. I stagger backwards and feel the wall against my back. He leans in close, inhaling my breath as I exhale.

"I wanna feel," he breathes. Before I can answer his lips are on mine. My mouth follows its obnoxious habit of falling open and his tongue slips in like it was an invitation. He runs his tongue all along my teeth and over and around my own tongue. I can't move, can't do anything. I lean back against the wall and try to keep my thoughts in line.

Everything about his mouth is soft. I don't know why I thought it would be rough or harsh. Maybe because of the tattoos spread so liberally across his arms. I let him continue his feel. Just as I press my lips back to his he pulls away licking his lips as he grins down at me. His smile is anything but vicious or slimy, it warms my torso and makes me want to squirm.

"I see what you mean…it feels better on you than it usually does on me," he states. He pulls away and goes back to the bed like he didn't just memorize my mouth. Without him close enough to keep my tingle going I can feel the panic rise up. Panic from being so far out of place, from not knowing what the hell I am doing or what this means for my story.

I scramble towards the chair with my bag and hoist it over my shoulder shoving my bandaged thumb nail into my mouth as I search the room for any other remnants of me.

"I, uh, I don't want to be rude because it was incredibly nice of you to let me stay. I don't even know why I did stay or what happened or what I possibly could have said or done, but thanks I guess. We're all even for the bump on the head and your pervert dog and I have to go. I won't be taking up space in your bed and, yeah," I turn on my heel and head towards what I hope in an exit. There are two doors off the living room and I feel a little like a mouse in a maze.

I need to be home, in front of my computer where putting this all to a wall will hopefully make it make sense. There I can let my friends tell me what to think, how to compartmentalize this. I look around the living room and see the heavy door and know I am close to feeling right way up again.

"Stay a little longer Bella. Walt and I want to cuddle with you," he calls after me. I turn my head to see him following me out of the room and I rush towards the door. I grasp the handle and look back one more time, I don't know if I will allow myself this kind of slip up again.

"I can't. This isn't me. You don't even know how much this isn't part of the plan, part of my story. Yeah. Thanks," I spit out before throwing open the door and thundering down the stairs. The dark hallway only makes my panic swell, the craving for my mundane life overwhelming. The door at the bottom swings open into the deserted bar and that at least answers some questions.

I cross my arms over my chest and keep my head down. This is the closest thing to a walk of shame I've ever done. That thought forces a hint of a smile onto my face, but my good sense smacks it away. My pace is quick and when I lean against the locked door of my studio, my shoulders finally fall from the weight of my thoughts. I immediately turn to my computer and begin to ask for answers.

* * *

My phone has been ringing for five minutes and there might be a possibility that I could get in trouble for ignoring it, but that would tear me from the window and the unexplainable vigil I am keeping. The wall and my friends were no help.

Alice said that I should put Edward behind me. That he is obviously some kind of womanizing creep with a toy fetish and I am better off.

Trent said that men who take women home drunk only want one thing and I am not that kind of girl.

All my friends seemed to take the same train of thought. I should be happy, feel solid in their consensus. The only problem is that I don't agree. At all. I get that when you write it all out, Edward may come off as an ass, but I couldn't put into words the buzz I get around him. There was no way to transfer that feeling through the computer or explain how even though the things coming out of his mouth may not be PC, his eyes fix it.

I squeeze my eyes shut and lean back in my chair away from the window. Away from the pull I feel towards the bar across the street.

"Swan if you don't answer your phone I'm going to start taking all your business," Mike taunts. I want to tell him to have at it that I couldn't care less if the caller doesn't get their faulty, overpriced sugar pills. I turn to him in all his cheesy, short sleeve button up glory and I'm hit with a fantastic idea.

"Mike...can I ask you something?" I begin. He pulls the headset down off his ears and actually looks interested. I roll my chair towards him.

"Just because a guy lets a drunk girl sleep in his bed doesn't mean he's a manwhore, right?" I ask. Mike's face rears back and then he laughs. I lean forward anxious for someone to justify my curiosity, my errant need.

"You've been talking to too many girls. Maybe he was just being a nice guy. I mean nothing happened?" Mike asks. I shake my head adamantly, trying to clear Edward of all charges. Mike leans back into what I can only assume he thinks is a sexy pose, his hands resting on the back of his head.

"Then no harm no foul. Sounds ok to me," he decides. I feel myself bounce in my seat in silent celebration. I begin to roll back to my desk, when a hand grasps the arm of my chair.

"You wanna go get some drinks and you can crash at mine?" Mike smiles, but it looks like a grimace. Now that is slimy. I pull away from him and roll my eyes. Not even going to answer that question. My phone rings again and I grab it grateful for the distraction.

I rattle off the scripted lines and feel a smile spread over my face even though the person hangs up after line 7. I can follow the tug now, give into the pull. Work comes easily the rest of the day, my mind busy with the details of my new plan. A little detour can be justified, as long as I don't stray too far.

* * *

There are a ridiculous amount of cookies at the grocery store. I stare up at the shelves and feel overwhelmed. How am I supposed to know which one says 'thanks for letting me stay in your bed and sorry for running out like an idiot'? I pull a couple down and try to resist turning them over to read the nutritional facts. Stupid parents and their brain washing eating tactics.

If my mother had allowed me processed sugar I would not be having this problem right now.

A teenage boy walks by and I feel rescued.

"Hey!" I call after him. He stops in his tracks and he turns to face me. I am instantly red all over not having thought past getting help. He looks at me expectantly and I hold out the packages of cookies.

"Which ones?" I ask. His face twists into something I recognize as him thinking I am slightly crazy. He reaches out and taps the chocolate ones before turning quickly to leave. I smile my thanks, but he's long gone. Proud of my purchase I leave the store and let the bag swing in my hands as I walk towards the bar.

The open sign is lit, but I know from experience that it will be mostly empty. I push open the heavy door and take a moment to let my eyes adjust to the darkness. My heart speeds up as if it is only now realizing that I am repeating my diversion, but repeating it makes it less of a diversion and more of a pattern. This realization gives me the courage to approach the bar.

I lean over the smooth surface and look behind to try and find him. Falling back on my heels, my lips purse into a pout. Why isn't he here?

The door leading to his apartment bangs against the wall, nearly sending me to the floor in shock and suddenly he's there. It takes a moment for his eyes to find me over the enormous box he carrying, but eventually they do and his lips curl into a smile.

"Change your mind? Wanna go upstairs and cuddle?" He teases. He moves behind the bar, setting down the box before appearing in front of me. He cocks his head to the side and waits. I know it's my turn, but I'm distracted by him and his nonchalance.

"I wanted to thank you again for the other night. It was pretty decent of you to let me stay over and I was kind of a freak when I woke up. So I thought I should bring you something, but flowers are for girls so I thought baked goods, but I didn't have time. So..." I drop the grocery bag on the counter and wait. He pulls open the bag and peers down at the cookies. I fidget a little and wait for his response. Maybe I picked wrong.

"Oreos? Wow, girl, I'm honored. It took you, what, less than a minute to pick these up?" he quips. My mouth remembers its role when he's around and falls open. I reach towards him and try to snatch the cookies back, but he pulls them just out of my reach.

"I didn't know what you like or what the proper 'sorry' gift was for a guy who works in a bar and harbors a monster in his bed. I had help and it took me at least ten minutes, but if you don't want them I'm sure I can find someone who does," I spit out, reaching again for the cookies.

"No I want them. You can't take a gift back. Besides I know someone who will love these. Have a seat," he replies. He hides the cookies beneath the counter and I sink onto a stool feeling defeated. This was not how I envisioned this going. I thought he would be charmed by my gesture, instead he seems slightly insulted and just as smug. Now I feel silly and am picturing a Victorias Secret model eating the cookies as he feeds them to her. I glance towards the door and think about wandering back out that door and back into my rut.

"I could get you something else if you'd like? Something you might want?" I try. There is a chance I can fix this still and stratify this odd need to have him like me, accept me. I feel like a kindergartener trying to impress the other kids on the first day of school.

I wait for his answer as his hand fishes under the counter and reappears with one of the cookies. He pulls the chocolate pieces apart, revealing the white center. My eyes are fixed on his mouth as he slowly licks all the cream from the cookie. Suddenly I really want a cookie.

"You could come over on Sunday and help me paint," he leads. I nod enthusiastically, eager to have a way to break even with him. I seem to be constantly in his debt and it's unsettling. He smiles at my response and I relax a little into my stool, but then his face changes and he pauses.

"I don't know if that's gonna do it though," He sighs. The weight is returned and I look to him waiting for him to release me from it. He leans slowly over the counter, his elbows propping up his body. His face is close to mine, so close his breath is making my hair flutter around my face. I can smell the chocolate from the cookie he just ate.

"One more thing. That's it. Then you have to forgive me," I bargain. He smiles slightly and nods. The relief returns slightly, but then he gets closer. I rear my head back a little, but not fast or far enough to avoid his lips meeting mine. They are just as soft as I remembered and told Alice. The pace is slow this time, my mouth cooperates and stays closed. His lips are persistent and press against mine over and again until I open my mouth slightly to breath. His tongue is against mine instantly. He strokes my tongue several times before pulling away.

I keep my eyes shut and feel his hand on my chin, pushing my jaw back together. My eyes snap open to find him smirking at me again.

"Thanks, all better now," he states. I lean back in my stool and wait for that relief to come again, for that weight to be lifted. Instead I just feel warm. Warm and slightly out of body-ish. I slide off the stool and begin backing my way towards the door.

"I'm glad we could clear that up. I don't like feeling like I owe people and now we're even. So you have a good night of...liquor," I say. My feet are clumsy and heavy under me as I reach for the door.

"Running again?" he calls. I can hear the laughter in his voice. I turn and smile slightly as I push open the door, the sunlight outside obscuring my view.

"Sunday right?" I say only to let him know that I will be back, to tie myself to that event. The rational needs that reason, that obligation. I don't wait for his answer, but push into the sunlight and feel new, different, like maybe I could be something else, someone else, not in a rut.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N-t&a- WHOA. Just… whoa. You guys and your response to this story has been absolutely mind blowing and inspirational. You're all **_**amazing**_**. Seriously.**

**Anyhow… here's the next update. We don't own we just imagine. :)**

_It's a kiss sits upon her lips  
That waits for planes and battle ships  
She wants to be a dancer  
And he has got a picture on his wall  
And it's a sailor in a new port every night.  
Yet, man was born to trouble  
Like sparks fly upwards innocent.  
Is this all we get? To be absolute?  
Quiet, but I'm sure there's something here  
Tell me everything cause I want to hear.  
"_Absolute" The Fray

When I was a kid, I would lay in bed at night and dream about becoming a magician. It was the disappearing thing—I believed in it and I wanted it. I wanted a reason, a sense of self, _some_thing that would set me apart. Anything that would make people want me.

And sometimes, a lot of the time, I just wanted to disappear. I wanted to blend. I wanted to close my eyes and think of some beautiful place, some place I belonged, and I wanted to be there. More than anything though, I wanted a place to belong to.

There are some days even now when I just close my eyes and wish for it. I close my eyes and I pretend that I'm little again, pretend that I still believe, and I imagine myself on a beach with a hot topless chick. Well, it's a cross. Some days I picture the beach and some days I think of home—all of them but mostly the two important ones—the first and the last.

Belonging is subjective though. Belonging has as much to do with the individual as it does with the group.

And now it's enough to just make sure that Finn never feels that way.

"Daddy, can I have a drink?" Finn asks me, arms crossed on the bar.

"What do you want?"

"Coke." His face lights up with so much fucking excitement that it's impossible to say no to him.

"Comin' right up." I pour his drink and then pop the top off a beer and lean against the bar. I close shop on Sundays. Partly because I can and mostly because I think everyone should take one day to regroup, refocus. It's important for mental health and, for my regulars, physical health. They can drink at home if they want.

I didn't actually mean it when I bartered the deal with Bella. But I figured it'd be the best way to get her over here today—by guilting her into it. I like having her around. Somehow, I feel so at ease around her despite her constant babbling and stuttering and general nervous ticks.

"So, Huck, my friend is coming over to help us today."

He sucks noisily on his straw because he's already finished the soda. I swear the kid is like a fucking vacuum when it comes to liquids. "Can I have another?" he asks.

"Not yet. You gonna be nice to her, kid?"

"I'm always nice," he says.

The bell dings, signaling the door opening, and we both look over. She's standing there in the entrance wearing a black skirt and a blue sweater clutching her bag again, unmoving. She loves the fucking doorway.

"I don't think we're expecting an earthquake today. You can move from the door."

Her hand goes up and she starts chewing on her thumb for a minute before she comes in. "I don't see any paint. Are we really painting?" she asks and drops her bag down on a table.

"Daddy, is that your friend?" Finn asks.

Bella looks at him sort of warily and I gauge her reaction. This is the ultimate test with any woman.

I nod at Finn slowly but keeps my eyes on her. "Yeah, Huck. This is Bella. Bella, meet Finn."

Her mouth falls open and she looks between me and Finn two times before she crouches down and says, "Hi."

"Hi," Finn says. "Are you gonna help us paint?"

She smiles tentatively at him before saying, "I'm gonna try. I've never painted a wall before."

His face lights up and he looks between me and Bella. "I have! I can teach you!"

"Yo, Huck, can you go get the paints from the back room?" I ask him.

His face lights up again because the kid loves having a job to do. He scrambles down from his stool, looks at Bella and says, "I'll be right back!" and then runs into the back room.

I laugh and then look at Bella. "So… hi." She smiles uneasily and stretches her arms high over her head, her sweater rises slightly to reveal a tiny bit of skin. I love that she wears skirts all of the time. At least she has the sense to show her legs off even if she is partial to more conservative tops. "Did you bring a change of clothes?"

She looks down and then back up at me, confusion masking her face. "Why? I thought this would work? I'll take off the sweater." She pulls it over her head and throws it on top of her bag. "Should I change?"

If you ever listen to country music you'll know that those guys love singing about girls in white beaters. Like, love. I don't fucking blame them. A hint of her bra shows through the thin shirt and it just accentuates her chest really nicely.

"I just haven't heard of anyone painting in a skirt."

I walk until I'm standing directly in front of her and wrap my hands around her arms. "Hi," I say before she can speak and then dip my head and cover her lips with mine because I can and because she looks fucking adorable.

She stiffens slightly and then moves in closer to me, parting her lips with a little coaxing. I slip my tongue into her mouth and sweep it over her shiny teeth before pressing it against hers. A tiny little humming sound echoes in her throat and vibrates against my lips.

I pull her even closer to me until our bodies are pressed together from our chests to our toes and put one hand on her back and one in her hair. I like kissing and I especially enjoy kissing this girl because of the way she vibrates to life instantly.

Her arms go around me and I feel her fist my shirt in her hands as our tongues battle for dominance. She shifts slightly against me and her tits rub against my chest and fuck if I don't want to touch them but I don't want her to run away before we can paint and painting with a hard-on is less than ideal. Especially with the kid here.

I pull away and hold her at arms length, taking her in before she opens her eyes. Her chest is heaving, cheeks are stained pink, and her lips are pouty and partially open. I brush one more kiss against them and then wait for her to open her eyes.

"How was your weekend?"

She stares up at me through cloudy, unfocused eyes and says, "My weekend was like all my weekends. Uneventful. I did manage to break my fan though, not sure how I did it, but it's hot as Hades in my studio now and I know I should have probably worn something other than a skirt, but I'm just sick of being hot."

Ah, there's my Babbling Bella. Back in full force.

"I can come by and take a look at it this week," I offer and take a long drink from my beer.

She shakes her head quickly and grabs my beer. She takes a quick drink from it, makes a face, and then hands it back. "No, I can take care of it. I'm just about to not be in your debt and I don't want to be there again."

I shrug. "I'm not the one sweating my ass off." Just then Finn comes scrambling into the room hugging a bucket of paint.

"Dad," he says with a scowl, "you're bigger. You should get the otha one."

I laugh and take the bucket from him. "Will you keep Bella company while I go get it?"

He pushes his glasses up and nods. "Yeah."

"Okay, I'll be right back." I ruffle his hair and walk away from the two of them who jump into an animated conversation about some movie that he loves. And it feels good. She's awkward but she's warming to him and she talks to him like he's a person. Nothing pisses me or him off more than people who talk to him like he's a fucking infant.

When I come back carrying paint and brushes, the two of them are in a heated discussion about which was better—Finding Nemo or Up. Bella would be up to date on her cartoons.

"Okay." I shush them and put both paints out on the floor. "Enough of that. We need to focus here." Finn comes to stand next to me and pushes his glasses up again. "Remember what we said, Huck? Bella needs to help us pick between these two colors."

He nods seriously. "I want the dark blue."

Bella comes and stands across from us, staring down at the two paint cans speculatively. I look up at her. "We need you to pick one."

She narrows her eyes in thought and then kneels down and dips a finger into the first choice. Then she holds her arm out and draws a line of dark blue down her arm before repeating the same motion with the other color.

She looks up at me through her big, thoughtful eyes and holds her arm out. But all I can actually think about is the fact that she's on her knees in front of me right now and… well, it's distracting. My dick, by the way, belongs to a 13 year old boy.

"I think I like the navy," I hear her say. "It kind of looks like night and stars. What do you guys like?"

"Daddy likes the other one. I like the one you like!" Finn says excitedly.

I kneel down next to her just to get the image of Bella sucking my dick out of my head, and take her hand to look at her arm. "I like the way the navy looks against your skin," I say with a nod.

Her cheeks flame red and she pulls her arm gently from my hand. "Navy it is then. Do you have brushes? And a drop cloth?" she asks and wanders away from me.

"No," I say and push back up to my feet. "I was figuring we could just use our hands and hope for the best."

"Ummm while that might be… entertaining, I don't think it would get the job done. What do you think Finn?"

"Finger paint," he says excitedly. "I wanna finger paint!"

I laugh, put one hand on Bella's waist and one on Finn's head and lead them to the back wall. "Let's start here," I say. "That way if we only get this one done today, it won't look as unfinished tomorrow."

They both nod and reach for a brush and paint. Bella hands me one and we all start working in comfortable silence with the exception of Finn's random input, stroking the wall into a dark blue that will forever remind me of this crazy girl.

"So, Bella," I start conversationally when I get bored of the silence, "where are you from?"

Her face twists into something that resembles pain or intense discomfort and then swallows hard before refocusing on the wall. "Nowhere exciting," she says with a shrug. "Anywhere, USA."

"Anywhere USA?" I snort and look over at her but something's changed. Her jaw is tense and her eyes look a little lost and she's not looking at me. "If you're from there it's somewhere, Bella."

She tilts her head slightly and then walks away from me, putting more distance in between us. I've upset her, clearly.

"Tell me a story, Edward. You only ever ask me questions. Tell me something true about you."

"Oh, daddy, tell her about the time we went to Six Flags and the gawaffe licked the window!" Finn interrupts excitedly.

I grin indulgently down at him and then look at Bella and shrug. "We were going through the safari and a giraffe licked our window."

"Was his tongue black?" she asks Finn. "Giraffes have black tongues." Then she moves a little closer to me, until our shoulders are touching and our brushes meet. "Why don't you tell me a story, Finn?"

Finn bites down on his lip for a minute without stopping his painting and then his eyes brighten. "My class visited a farm!" he says with more enthusiasm than a kid at five AM on Christmas. "Bella, did you know that milk comes from _cows_? We watched them get it."

"Yeah?" she asks him with wide eyes. "That's crazy. Did you drink it?" And then she bends over slightly and brushes against my side.

I wrap my free hand on her hip and pull her closer to me. Finn, who is completely oblivious, says with a frown, "Miss Perry said no."

She laughs slightly and gives me a small smile. "Well, Miss Perry probably knows best."

Finn frowns and I know he's about to argue so I put my hand on his head. "How 'bout some dinner, big guy? I think we've painted enough for today."

"Pizza?" he asks.

I laugh, Bella scowls. "We had that last time," I say and lift him up into my arms. "How 'bout some pasta?"

"Ziti?" he asks with wide excited eyes.

"It depends. Does Bella like baked ziti?" I ask and look over at her.

She grins and nods. "Bella loves ziti."

"Good. Let's order."

*x*

"I think we should watch a movie," I tell her once Finn's asleep and we're all fed.

I sprawl out on the couch and she sits as far from me as possible, chewing on her thumb again. "That's fine. I could go for a movie."

"Do I smell weird?"

She tilts her head and gives me a weird look, as if I'm the one with the weird special issues. "Not that I can tell. Why?"

"I just can't figure out why you'd be sitting so far away. It's okay, I'll come to you." I flip my body so that my head is by her and rest it in her lap. "That's better. I wouldn't mind if you decided you wanted to scratch my back."

She lifts her hand slowly from her side and runs her fingertips over my back, on top of my shirt. "You wouldn't mind? That's smooth, Edward. You could just ask."

I sigh and press my face into the smooth skin of her thigh. "I wanted you to feel like you had a choice."

"You have a son."

I nod. "I have a son." She increases the pressure on my back and I groan softly. "Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all. It's just… more than I expected."

I smile against her leg. "Let's pick a movie." I don't really want to talk about my kid anymore tonight. He's the highest priority in my life but I saw her with him, and she said she's okay with him, so that's all I need to know for now.

"I don't really care. But it's going to be hard to turn it on when you're laying on top of me."

I open my mouth against her thigh and exhale heavily against it before pushing myself up and grabbing the remote off the table. I hand it to her and resume my position. "Just pick something."

The girl's little fingers run up and down my back, venturing occasionally into my hair and it's so fucking relaxing. I don't even turn my head to see what movie she's choosing.

I trace my fingers up her thigh to her hip and then a little higher. The position is awkward but I can't help touching her. I've figured out that in order to get Bella to relax and be calm, she has to be distracted.

"Aren't you going to watch the movie?" she asks.

I look up to see her frowning down at me. "I've got a pretty good view right here."

She rolls her eyes and then looks down at the way her skirt is bunched up. Her face turns so red I think she might hurt herself, and then she pushes me until I sit up.

She adjusts her skirt and then crosses her arms over her chest.

"Oh, relax," I say with a laugh and then tug on her arm until we're both horizontal, and pull her against me. I bend my knee until it pushes in between her legs and then sigh. "I love cuddling almost as much as I love having my back scratched."

Especially when her cute little ass is pressed right up against my dick.

She wiggles slightly—to get comfortable no doubt, not to turn me on. I bite back a groan anyway because she's making my dick hard.

"Edward, are you even watching the movie?"

I grab her hand which she's been flailing around aimlessly because she probably doesn't know where to put it. I bring it back to rest beneath mine on her stomach.

"What is this shit?" I curl my arm around her head and let my hand rest lightly on her collarbone, and then I tighten the arm around her waist until there's not even a centimeter of space between us.

"A Beautiful Mind." Her voice is a little raspy and breathless.

"Is there any nudity in it?"

"Should there be?"

"I just figured that if you were gonna make me watch something, it'd at least be something good."

"A movie can be good without nudity, Edward."

I hum my disapproval and slide my hand up to her ribcage and then higher, between her tits, until I can push her hair aside. I take her earlobe in between my teeth and then I suck on it.

She gasps, tenses, and tries to pull away but I hold her still. "See what happens when I watch movies without nudity?" I whisper into her ear and she shivers. "I love your ears."

"There's nothing to love about them."

I suck on the lobe again and then bite down. She jerks again. My hand is splayed along her ribs, my thumb just barely grazing the bottom of her tit. She puts her hand over mine and tries to remove it.

"Where are you trying to go?" I press my lips to her neck, right where it meets her shoulder, and suck on it. Little whimpers keep escaping from her lips and travel straight to my dick. I press my hips into her and then turn her head so that I can kiss her.

Her lips meet mine hesitantly at first but then she shifts slight, sliding her arm up and around my neck, and then she turns until she's on her back beneath me. I nudge her legs open with my knees and settle between them.

I deepen the kiss, tilting my head and pressing my tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers, and grind my hips into hers. Her skirt is bunched up around her hips now but I don't think she cares. I slide my hand up over her shirt and palm her tit and this time she pulls her head back and gasps.

I squeeze it once and then rub her nipple through the shirt with my palm and she squirms and raises her hips up to meet mine. And fuck if I can't feel how warm and wet her pussy is through my shorts.

I groan and dip my head to suck on her tit through her shirt and then she's pushing me away.

"Edward," she breathes. "Edward, stop. We can't—can we just watch the movie?"

Fuck me, right? I sigh and drop back into the spot between her body and the back of the couch. She curls up into me again and places my hand back on her stomach.

I'd thank her for my blue balls but she's letting me touch her without having a full fledged panic attack so I decide to stay quiet.

* * *

I pry my eyes open and wonder briefly where I am because my fucking shoulder is numb. And then I feel Bella trying to move my hand so she can get up.

I tighten my hold on her and groan into her neck. "Stay here," I tell her.

"I have to go home. Go back to sleep."

"No. Let's go to bed inside." I don't make a move to get up though; I just drape my leg over hers and hold her tightly to me. "If you leave I'll have to cuddle with Walt. And he smells bad and doesn't have pretty boobies like you do."

"Well, give him a bath."

"Now? It's 2 in the morning. You can't walk home at 2 in the morning, little girl. Stay here with me."

"I can and I will. Time to let go, Edward."

"Nope." I bury my face in her hair and hum. "Go back to sleep. Good night, Bella."

I close my eyes but I don't let her go.

Needless to say, in the morning when I wake up, she's gone. But she covered me with the blanket from my bed and left me a note on the coffee table.

_You sleep like the dead, _it says, _thanks for yesterday. I'll see you tonight._

In the garbage can in the kitchen, there are 8 crumpled drafts of her note. I shake my head and laugh. Crazy little girl.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- t&a- the reviews continue to completely overwhelm us in the ****best**** way possible. we can't thank you all enough for that! pics of walt and finn are up on the profile…**

**We're not the originators of these characters, but we have a good time bending their lives…**

_Think of every town you've lived in_

_Every room you lay your head_

_And what is it that you remember_

_Do you carry every sadness with you_

_Every hour your heart was broken_

_Every night the fear and darkness_

_Lay down with you_

_But I am holding half an acre_

_Torn from the map of Michigan_

_I am carrying this scrap of paper_

_That can crack the darkest sky wide open_

_Every burden taken from me_

_Every night my heart unfolding_

_Half Acre- Hem_

My eyes are starting to ache. That's what happens when you stare so long and hard at something that you think the inanimate object might start to move. There's no good reason for me be watching my door. He doesn't know where I live. Wouldn't have any good or logical explanation to want to find out. And yet here I am, staring at the door, a slight tingle and pull in the pit of my stomach telling me something I don't want to admit.

I force my eyes away from the door and towards my normal distraction. My laptop is lit and humming, waiting for my fingers to stroke the keys into a frenzy. Waiting for me to succumb to my only source of social activity. That is, my only normal social efforts until I followed my curiosity into a bar and made a friend.

Is that what we are? Friends? I roll the words around in my mind and then over my tongue. So many aspects fits that I ignore the ones that go beyond the definition. Like his tongue's ability to find my mouth, often. The thought prompts my tongue to sweep through my own mouth looking for traces of him there. I don't know why I keep looking for him in places he's not.

And then there's Finn. How could something so small terrify me so much? If possible I am even more frightened of the tiny version of the man than the man himself. I don't know the first thing about kids. Apart from the fact that they generally seem hyper, dirty and generally obnoxious. And yet Finn is none of those things. It might be argued that he is more of an adult than Edward generally is. But Finn only adds to my curiosity. An urge to be closer to every aspect of Edward.

The screen of my laptop goes dark due to lack of key stroking and I feel abandoned. I want that feeling of calm and fulfillment that usually comes with my perusal of the walls of facebook, but tonight all they did was make me feel like a coffee cup filled with water, wishing for the real deal.

It doesn't help that the 'faces' on my screen don't seem to understand my new….friend. Alice is still stuck on some sick perversion of him using me to fulfill his sexual needs and then tossing me aside. Trent is not much better, I think he may think that I have completely made Edward up. Which maybe a few months ago I may have, but how could anyone be that imaginative?

I didn't even try to tell them about Finn. Who knows what kind of hell they would raise with that addition to the equation. Alice loves children, but I think that's only because she is basically child sized. Trent however….thinks children represent a stage in life that should be forgotten.

The glowing numbers on the clock next to me capture my attention. 7:14. It's early still. The bar probably has a healthy crowd by now. I force my eyes open and my mind away from picturing the sight. Edward all smiles even when I'm not there. It's really not fair that he should be able to control my smiles. I wonder what Finn does while his dad pours drinks for the lushes downstairs.

My mind rebels against me and replays our last time together. His words echo in my mind. His insistence that I can always come over and it's all I need. He's the only thing that can make sense of the mess in my mind. Make sense of the confusion and terror and tingle. I pull my laptop from my bed and shove it into an oversized bag before shoving my feet into flip flops. It's not until I'm halfway down the block that I even think about that fact that I am wearing sleep clothes.

My feet stay in motion as I take in the cotton shorts and t-shirt. Going back to change isn't an option. If I turn around I might lose the sudden burst of courage that is currently carrying me away from comfort and pattern. I hoist the bag higher on my shoulder and keep going. It's not like it matters.

As I approach the bar I can hear music and laugher spilling into the street. There is a very significant piece of me that thinks this is a bad idea, to keep willing placing myself in the path of unknown. To keep risking my sanity to scratch an itch. But the part that matters, doesn't care.

I push open the heavy doors and almost expect the entire population of the bar to turn at stare at the obviously misplaced girl, but no one even turns as I enter and weave carefully around people to get to the bar. I wait at the far end for a glimpse of him, but all I see is his back up and a never-ending line of people anxious to lose a little bit of clarity.

Minutes pass and I start to jitter. Where is he? The back-up catches my eye and nods in my direction before holding up a finger. I comply with his request. A couple of heads turn in my direction when he walks towards me and I turn away from their eyes.

"Ed's upstairs. Taking the night off," he states. I take the first fulfilling breath since I walked in and nod. He begins to walk away, but then turns back.

"You know how to get up to his place? He'd want you to come up. I'll get an ass chewing if he thinks I scared you off," he adds. His tone is light and I know it's meant to sound teasing, but I can't muster the smile that would let him know I got the joke. Instead I turn and push towards the back corner and the door. The last of my resolve is called upon as I push open the door and take the stairs quickly.

My fist is against the door before I can think better and I can hear the orange monster barking in response. High pitched giggles filter through the door and I'm smiling for no good reason. I wait for the door to open and my mind wanders. I should try to get along better with the dog. They seem close and I guess all his pawing is probably better than biting or growling. As I resolve to make friends with the orange beast the door flies open.

"Can't get enough of me, can you?" he smirks leaning against the doorframe. The urge to turn around and run back down the stairs is surprisingly faint.

"You keep telling me to come and I don't want to be rude and not come. Especially when you are generally nice to me. Apart from all the sarcasm and sexual remarks. I think you actually can't get enough of me," I answer. My face heats up when I realize what I've said, but the grin on his face simply stretches. He reaches out towards me, running his thumb over my bottom lip, my mouth drops open slightly in response. Small feet beat against the hard wood and then a tiny arm winds around Edward's leg. I peer down at the half hidden face and wave. The face buries itself in denim and I sigh.

"Never said different, did I? Come in," he replies. He moves his body slightly to the side, but not enough that I don't have to rub against him as I pass. The warmth from his body warms me instantly. The thought doesn't last long as the orange monster runs towards me, his paws taking instant residence on my boobs. I turn my body away and drape my free arm over my chest. Edward's laughter rings out and I turn to glare at him.

"Do you train him to do these things? I find it hard to believe it's just a coincidence," I blurt. I watch him until he gains control and meets my gaze.

"Down Walt. No," Finn's tiny voice is firm and once again he is acting as the adult in this situation. Walt listens obediently and trots over to lick the toddlers face. Finn pats his head lovingly and then twists his hand under his collar attempting to drag him towards his room.

"You've got a nice set, Bella. He's just appreciating them," he states. I clench my eyes shut and wonder how I can find any peace of mind in the presence of this man. But it's irrefutable. There's a freedom when I am here that I can't find anywhere else.

"I don't really see the point in saying anything, but thank you. So thank you, but could you maybe prevent him from appreciating them in the future?" I ask. I watch as Finn continues to struggle to pull the now innocent looking dog from his place on the floor.

"Walt go with Finn," Edward commands and the dog reluctantly follows Finn across the floor to his room. The dog obviously understands English or Edward's English. He _so_ told him to feel me up.

"Finn, pick out pajamas and I'll let you skip a bath tonight," he calls and I can hear the child sequel in delight. I wonder when bathing stopped being a chore.

I feel Edward in front of me before I look up. He holds my stare with his eyes as he tugs on a piece of hair brushing my collarbone and then slowly trails his finger down, barely grazing the outside the of my boob. His breath fans over my face.

"I don't think I got to tell you hello properly," he breathes. I pull back from his touch a little, not ready for the friends line to be blurring this early in the night. I need more time to bask in this calm. I pull away and clear my throat. I move around him, dropping my bag onto his coffee table and tucking myself into a corner of his couch.

"It's your night off?" I ask. I know the answer, but I want him to talk more, more of his words will drown out the ceaseless jabbering in my mind. He disappears into Finn's room for a moment before emerging, still child and dog free.

"Have you eaten dinner yet?" he returns. I want to say something about answering a question with a question, but I know it will be lost on him. His ability to do whatever makes him happy is unfathomable to me. I want to be like that all the time. I realize he is staring at me while I am mentally scolding him.

"Umm, I don't think so. I mean I had a granola bar on the way home from work, but that was a couple of hours ago," I sigh. I guess in all the door staring and laptop avoiding I forgot about eating.

"Good. I haven't eaten and I hate eating alone," he states.

"Finn is going to bed without dinner?" I gaff. Is that still a punishment people use on their kids? Didn't that stop in the 50s?

"What kind of piss poor father do you think I am? Of course I fed Finn. He had pasta about two hours ago," he chuckles. Guilt washes over me. And now I've insulted his parenting. I should just sink into between the couch cushions and hide.

"You didn't have pasta?" I ask. He shoots me a look that makes me feel like the answer should be obvious.

"My son doesn't eat the shit I eat," he answers. He disappears into the kitchen and I wonder if he's going to cook. That would be a new faucet to my curiosity. A new reason to be drawn in so completely. I lean against the couch and keep my feet tucked underneath me where Walt can't get to them.

Finn emerges from his room clothed in a tiny bedtime version of a batman costume and climbs onto the couch next to me. He scoots until his tiny body is touching mine and shoves a large book into my lap. I stare down at the cover and recognize the wizard immediately. Is this appropriate for a three year old? I look over at Finn who is waiting expectantly.

I open the book to where an M&M wrapper is holding a place. I swallow thickly and scan the page quickly. There's mention of a giant spider and I'm not ashamed to admit this book scared the shit out of me when I read it. And I was 18.

"Are you sure your daddy is ok with you reading this? It's a little scary," I ask. I watch as Finn rolls his eyes and looks impressively more like Edward. He places a small hand on my arm.

"It's not for reals Issybella. Wissards and Harry are maked believe," he assures me. In that moment another piece of me relaxes and I begin to read. The words flow easily as Finn crawls even closer as I continue. I'm so caught up in the story I don't even see or feel Edward come back into the room.

"Those are some top notch voices," Edward's voice causes a jolt to go through me, nearly knocking me off the couch. I cover my heart with one hand and breathe deeply a couple of times. I look down at Finn to see him sleeping deeply, his head on my thigh.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop. I thought you were cooking. I'm catching up on my Harry Potter. Finn said it was ok and I can't say no to him. I thought it might be best if we got along, since well, if I want to be here, and I, yeah," I stumble through the words. He's laughing again and as much as I want to be angry that he seems to find humor in me at all times, I can't.

"And you what?" he presses. I try to rewind my mind and track my thoughts to find some kind of end point, but can't come up with anything. I pull myself tighter against the cushions.

"I was just trying to make nice. I want your son to like me," I admit. He shakes of his laughter and rounds the couch, lifting Finn gently from my lap and cradling him against his shoulder. He closes his eyes for a brief second like he's trying to memorize the moment and the action spreads my heart wide open.

"Well, bonding time is over for this one. Maybe you should try to butter up Walt even though I'm pretty sure excessive tit gropage constitutes liking," he muses. He walks towards Finn's room and I look down at Walt. One at a time. I sigh in defeat and reach for my computer. I flick it open and wait for the blue light and hum to kick in.

"Weren't you going to cook? Or get food? Or did you decide not to?" I ask as Edward reemerges, leaving Finn's door open a crack. My mind being occupied by something else, the words come easier, clearer. Everything becomes second nature with my computer in front of me.

"I ordered. What are you doing?" he asks. I feel the couch shift as he sits down next to me and he moves closer, to get a better view. Mild panic rushes over me. I wasn't planning on sharing my guilty pleasure. I just assumed I would log on like I do every night and he would do whatever it is that he does when I'm not around and just let me bask in the freedom.

I tilt the screen away from his eyes a little.

"I'm just checking Facebook," I answer slightly. He doesn't need to know how often I do this or how much of a crutch it has become in my life.

"You came over to check Facebook? Was your internet not working at home or something?" he asks leaning in even closer. I want to pull the computer to my chest and protect this from him. How could something so public seem so personal? Like laying myself out in front of him.

"No, I usually do this at night and I guess I wanted company and you seem to always like company so I figured I could do both?" I offer. He leans close enough to rest his chin on my shoulder and his hand hovers over my own as I navigate through the page, like he wants to take control, but won't.

"I don't get it…what do you usually do at night? How much time do you spend on here?" he asks. His breath fans down my neck and I shiver a little at the sensation. The words finally register and my face heats up rapidly. The truth is so damning. To tell someone that my entire social life revolves around this 15 inch screen would never paint me in a good light, but it's the truth.

I begin to abuse my thumbnail with my teeth to avoid answering. This is a pivotal moment and he doesn't even know. And selfishly I'm not ready for him to know this much, to be as deep as he would if I start telling him my secrets. Those are reserved for the anonymity of cyber space for the moment.

"I have a lot of friends who live far away, so this is the only way I can really keep in touch with them. And there are a lot of them and I try to be accommodating with their schedules and different time zones and I may spend a lot of time on here, but you know. I want to keep my friends so…." The words pour from me after being carefully censored.

Edward is silent and I wish I could see his face. Then his hand tugs my thumbnail from my mouth while the other nudges my fingers from the mouse as he takes control. I wiggle the fingers of my hand encased by his own and watch as he scrolls down the page.

"You have 873 friends?" he asks. I cringe at his reaction not knowing if it's good or bad. My hand twitches to be released so I can gnaw on my thumbnail, but he holds tight. I sigh and slump a little. His chin follows, staying on my shoulder.

"Yeah. I mean I don't talk to all of them, but a lot of them and some are just people I know through other friends and some are people I didn't know, but I feel really bad denying a friend request. So I kind of never say no and it just kept growing," I sigh. He keeps scrolling down and reading the posts. I wish I could delete some of them, but I can't even move. I'm helpless under his investigation.

"Are any of these people from around here?" he presses. He's lingering on Alice's posts and I'm glad I've never told her his name and that she's been occupied with a delivery boy lately.

"A couple of people from work, but not really," I admit. He keeps scrolling and scoffing at some of the posts. With every chuckle I want to melt into the couch. This was a bad idea. It's like he's eavesdropping on all my conversations.

"Is this like, your bar scene? Don't you have any friends around here?" he quips. I know he's just curious and the words shouldn't tear at me, but they do. I can feel my heart race and my eyes start to burn with tears. I choke them back a little before he will see. The last thing I need is to cry. Then I might as well hand him the deed to my soul.

"Well, I'm not from around here. I went to school close to home and I wanted to start over fresh. I guess I'm still new and I haven't gotten out like I should have and I'm not the most outgoing person. I just, I guess not," I stutter. Each word is accompanied by the effort not to cry, not to give in to my embarrassed tears.

Someone pounds on the door and Edward swears under his breath, before pulling himself from his pose around me and walks towards the door. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes urging out the tears. He talks to the person at the door and I can hear the rustle of paper bags.

I pull my hands quickly from my face and keep my eyes on the computer as he comes back. He busies himself with clearing the coffee table in front of me, pushing toy cars and picture books to the ground. It's so hard for me to merge the two people he appears to be. The man and the father. That train of thought only diverts my embarrassment for a moment.

"Well, maybe if you spent as much time developing your social skills as you did on here, you'd be golden," he suggests. He glances up at me and my lip quivers. I knew letting him in was a bad idea. He doesn't understand. Thinks there is something wrong with me. This is why I don't get close to people, why I prefer the computer.

"Hey." His voice is soft and it pulls me from the screen. I glance up at him tentatively, not wanting another lecture in my waning social skills.

"I'm just fucking with you, girl, shit, I spend my days with a three year old who knows more about the world than I do and my nights talking to alcoholics who don't remember our conversations the next day. At least your shit is documented, right?" he soothes. His hand reaches out and traces a wet path down my cheek and I pull away just a little, still feeling the sting of his previous words. His eyes bore into me and I can tell that that was the closest thing to an apology I will get. I take in a deep shuttering breath and nod slowly.

"Whatever. People are people. And know you've got me to socialize with and I might even let you hang out with Finn and Walt if you're lucky. Now, can we eat? Because I am fucking starving," he pleads. I chuckle before looking down at the food he has spread across the coffee table. I can't see much of it, mostly just Styrofoam and cardboard. I close my laptop and set it gently on the floor before scooting forward in my seat to get a better look.

"What is this?" I ask. Food never entered my childhood home completely cooked. My mother didn't believe in anything she couldn't make from scratch. I tried to rebel during college and indulge in fast food, but it always tasted artificial. Alice called me a food snob.

I watch as Edward tears into the containers, scooping out piles of white and yellow before reaching into a large bucket and pulling out a large piece of brown. My words stop his actions and he looks at me like I just kicked his dog.

"KFC. God's gift to humanity," he answers almost reverently. I can't help the laugh that escapes from my lips at his words. I've never heard him talk so seriously about anything. He picks at the piece of brown and pulls away the top layer revealing white and bone beneath. I'm guessing that's supposed to be chicken. He pops the fried skin into his mouth and his eyes closed and he moans. The sound sends a jolt through my body.

"I'm guessing you really like this stuff? You have a suggestion on where I should start?" I ask. I want to go to his kitchen and look for something healthier, but something tells me that I might severely offend him if I do. He extends his greasy fingers towards me, a piece of the skin dangling from between them. I take it gingerly and try to smile.

"Have you never had KFC before? What the fuck is wrong with you?" he gaffs. I roll my eyes and bring the skin to my mouth. I touch the tip of my tongue to it first, tasting the salt and grease. His eyes hold mine expectantly and I shove the piece into my mouth before I can think better.

I chew slowly trying to focus on the seasonings rather than the fat content. I swallow quickly and reach for the glass set in front of me. Now I know why he doesn't feed this to Finn.

"I try to stay away from things that will completely block blood flow to my heart in five years," I answer, coughing down the soda and skin.

"Wasn't that delicious? You've been missing out your whole life," he sighs. I laugh and pull a container with what I think is corn towards me and decide to concentrate my efforts on the fake vegetables.

"I don't know how I lived. I obviously was deprived. I am so lucky to have you to enlighten me," I laugh. I take a few more sips, trying to rinse the taste in my mouth, he's already onto his second piece. My eyes take in the spread in front of my and questions pop into my mind.

"Isn't this a fast food chain? How did you get them to deliver? Don't you usually have to go pick it up?" I ramble. He chuckles through a mouth through of food before wiping his hands across his lips, catching the grease there.

"I know a guy that works there and we have an agreement. He gets free beer, I get free delivery," he smirks. I tilt my head to one side. Obviously he orders from this place a lot.

"I guess that resourceful of you," I reply. He reaches in another bag and presses a warm soft lump into my hand. When he pulls back I look down at the bread.

"Have a biscuit, Bella, it'll change your life," he says. I humor him and bite into the biscuit. It's buttery and soft and I don't mind it nearly as much as the clot chicken. I take another bite and smile at him.

"Thanks for dinner. I can pay you for half," I offer. I reach for my bag. Edward snorts and smacks at my hand. I pull my hand back and glare at him a little which just makes him laugh.

"That's only work if you put it in a biscuit and feed it to Walt," he chuckles. I lean back into the couch and watch as he snatches a couple of French fries and lets Walt lap them out of his hand. My head falls on the arm of the couch and I don't understand why this brings me so much calm. I feel warm and full and its not from the skin and biscuit.

"Then you'll let me pay next time? Please?" I press. I don't want to be a charity case. Charity cases are always looked at like little sisters and that's not what I want. Not that I'm ready to talk about what I want. He raises an eyebrow at my request.

"Let's put it this way….you took over story duty for the night so I owe you. Maybe I'll let you pay next time if you can beat me to it," he offers. I can just picture us racing towards the door to pay, him using his hip to bump me out of the way. I'm thinking I may never get to pay, but I can at least try.

The food gradually disappears and I watch as Edward reclines back into the couch next to me. I glance at the clock on the wall and feel the obligation to leave.

"It's getting late," I state. I can't bring myself to offer to go, but I'll go if he wants. His eyes loll over to meet mine and he grins lazily.

"Mmmm, you know what I love after a good KFC session?" he asks. I sigh and shake my head.

"What?" I play into his question. My eyes dart towards the cracked door across from me and know that it can't be anything too scandalous.

"Having my back scratched," He states. Then he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it in the general direction of his bedroom. I keep my eyes on the flying piece of clothing rather than his bareback. And then he's wedging himself between my legs, my thighs on either side of his hips.

Last time it was more innocent, a hand under the back of his shirt in a dark room, this feels personal, intimate. It could be because last time we were still so new to each other. He didn't know about my Facebook fixation. Now everything has the potential to mean something.

"Have at me," he urges, leaning back into me a little, but I can't move my arms, my eyes are too busy taking in his back. His back and the intricate lines detailing a home. The lines are angular and blue, lacking the touches that soften a drawing. A blueprint.

When I finally reach out I start by running my fingers over the lines, tracing the design. He sighs a little under my touch. Once I feel I've memorized the lines, I abandon them, running my nails over the skin in the wide looping circles and patterns that I know he likes.

"It's beautiful," I tell him. His back is now littered with red lines from my nails. He leans back further into my touch, urging me to press harder.

"What's that?" he asks. His voice is hoarse and light. I chuckle a little and trace the whole blueprint on his back with a single fingernail.

"Your tattoo. I really like it. It's not like anything I've ever seen," I answer. I place both hands on his back and use my fingertips for awhile, smoothing over the muscles and calming the sting of the scratches.

"It's the house I lived in when I was a kid," he breathes. I can feel his muscles soften under my touch and I love that I have that effect on him. In some small way it feels like paying him back for the feeling I get whenever I am here.

The silence creeps back in and I keeps my hands roaming over his bare skin, alternating between scratching and rubbing. He leans further and further into me until it's almost impossible to move my hands in the tiny space between our bodies. I slow my touch and lean into his back letting my check rest there only for an instant.

"You have to lean forward if you want me to keep going," I say softly. His heavy weight doesn't move, but he turns his face, so close to mine I pull away a little.

"Have you ever had your back scratched Bella?" he breathes. And I honestly don't remember. I'm sure I have, at some point, it seems all mothers are obligated to do so, but I can't actually remember it happening.

"I'm sure I have," I answer. But the seed is planted and I'm picturing his hands on my bare back and I feel the shiver work its way down my body. Before I can indulge myself anymore, large hands reach around me and pull me from behind and place me in his lap. I squirm a little, but his hands are firm on my waist.

"Have you been living under a rock? What'd you do without me for your entire life? Take your shirt off," he commands. He reaches down and starts to do the job himself, but I hold firmly to the seam.

"You don't have to Edward. I mean, you're probably tired and I don't want you to feel like you have to reciprocate. I like doing that for you," I argue softly. He pulls harder at my shirt and it slips from between my fingers. Besides, there is a small person a room away who doesn't need to walk in on his dad and his….friend shirtless.

"Shut up Bella, when someone offers to scratch your back, you take your shirt off and you accept," he scolds. My response is muffled by the shirt passing over my head. Instantly the cold air causes my skin to tighten and I reach for the shirt. Edward tosses it towards his own. Before I can argue his warm hands are on my back and all thoughts of cold are pushed from my mind.

My back slouches as the first touches of his fingers release a tension I didn't know I was harboring. His fingers lack the nails mine have, but the calming effort isn't lessoned. I fight back a moan and sigh heavily.

"That feels so good," I admit. His hand pushes my head down and he pulls me a little closer to him.

"I know. Shhhh, enjoy it," he answers I nod heavily and just enjoy the feeling. He mimics my earlier actions, his fingers drawing shapes and lines over my skin. I flinch as his fingers graze the sides of my ribs, urging him away from the ticklish spots. The only break in the fluid moments when his fingers catch on the clasp of my bra. He mutters something under his breath before undoing the clasp and pushing the straps to the side. My hands immediately go to my breasts, stopping the bra from falling off all-together. I can feel the tension return as the heat rises up my body. My heart is hammering at my chest and I'm frozen.

"Would you calm down? This can't be relaxing if you have a bra holding your shit together," he states. I try to let the tension leave, but it's not budging. The heat isn't leaving either. His hands work at my bare skin more urgently trying to compensate, but I'm too wound up. I finally pull away from his touch and smile at him over my shoulder.

"Thanks. I think that's enough," I breathe. I try to think of the best way to get my bra re-clasped and my shirt back on when he tugs on my arm, turning my body slightly to face him. His eyes are hooded and heavy as he reaches behind my neck and pulls my lips down to his. His lips move slowly over mine at first and I sigh a little and press the tip of my tongue forward. It's not in my nature to kiss people like I kiss him, but I can't help myself. His smiles against my lips and opens his mouth to me, letting me take control for once.

I ease my tongue into his mouth slowly tasting the salt and grease still lingering there. It tastes much better here then it did in my own mouth. I stroke his tongue with my own before snaking my tongue back and taking his bottom lip in between my own. He leans into my touch and I pull away, placing another kiss on his slightly parted lips before easing out of his hold.

Control is addictive and I like not being left open mouthed and gaping for more for once. I keep one arm firmly across my chest keeping my bra in place and I glance up at him through my lashes smiling a little.

"It really is pretty late," I point out. He reaches his hands around my back and clasps my bra, allowing my arm to rest. I drop it from my chest and regret it almost instantly as his eyes take in what my arm had been hiding. He drags his eyes slowly back up my body to my own eyes.

"Why don't you stay here? I'd rather cuddle you than Walt. Plus, crazy things happen to pretty girls that walk home by themselves in the middle of the night," he offers. I pause, pretending that I may have some intention of saying no, of denying him. He's already tugging on my arm and pulling me towards the bedroom before I answer.

"What about Finn?" I ask. He chuckles and tugs harder not deterred by my worry.

"Sleeps like the dead and will probably be thrilled to continue your story time in the morning," he quips. He nudges the bedroom door open with his foot and forgoes the lights. He tosses me a large white t-shirt and I sigh. It's just sleeping. That won't traumatize a child. Right?

"Ok," I finally whisper, not even sure if he can hear me. As I slip into his massive bed next to him, I think I may be in trouble. Danger really, of never being able to see my story without him in it.

I curl into myself and turn my head into the pillow, hiding, even in the dark. The bed dips and groans as Edward slides in and his arm is around me instantly pulling me back into him, warm and solid. I should really buy a real bed. That has to be the reason I feel so much more comfortable here. The real bed, the solid mattress.

His breath hits the back of my neck and I almost want to pull away from the moist heat.

"So why are all your friends on the computer?" he breathes. I turn my face further into the pillow. I thought this conversation was over. I am ready for it to be over. How do you explain that you just look better on paper, at a distance?

His hand traces up the back of my borrowed shit and makes large circles on my back. I can feel myself lean into his touch. The darkness and his fingers are drawing the answer from me.

"I keep starting over. I don't like where my story is going so I try to erase and keep going, but I collect people. Like other people collect shot glasses I guess," I sputter. The revelation is new even to me. So much better than simply I'm slightly socially challenged. His fingers falter for a moment before pressing even more urgently.

"What don't you like about your story?" he whispers. I swallow quickly and fight the urge to slip out of bed and away from his questions.

"That there isn't one. Nothing of note, nothing worthy of reading. I keep waiting for it to start, for something to happen," I admit. I pull away from his touch slightly, but his grip tightens and I'm flush against him again, his chin cradled in my shoulder.

"If you could have anything, put anything in your story, what would it be? What would you add to it?" he asks. My mind flies with the possibilities. My face appearing in so many the novels and movies I have loved, but that's not right. That's not what I want.

"You can't choose your story. That takes away half the excitement, the thrill. I just want to feel like I'm living, leaving my mark on something, someone," I sigh. I know it doesn't make sense. I can't ask for adventure and then refuse to choose what it would be. And yet that's exactly what I want.

"Well you're not going to find you excitement in that screen baby," he eases. I shift quickly and pull myself to the edge of the bed. He follows quickly, wrapping himself around me once again.

"No, don't leave. I don't want to upset you, but things don't just happen," he presses. I swallow my pride down and hide in the blankets and pillows. He doesn't get it. Doesn't understand what I mean. His story is so colorful, so full, why would he understand the worries of someone whose story has never started?

"Nevermind. Just forget it. Let's just settle on the fact that it's unfortunate that I bond better through a screen than in person," I state. I can feel him shake his head behind me and I clench my eyes shut willing this moment away.

"That's not true. We both know that. What are you afraid of? Getting hurt?" he prods. I feel my stomach sink at his questions. He's getting too close, too good at reading me.

"It's not about fear. I WANT my story to start. It's not knowing how to let anything amazing happen to me….but I'm getting better at that," I mutter. He doesn't need to know what he's helping my write my story. That no matter what end he chooses, his chapter will always be memorable.

"It gets easier, you know? Going for what you want, letting go of all that shit that holds you back? It gets easier with time," He assures me and if I wasn't already sure he was a hero figure that solidifies it. A yawn washes over me and I relax into him.

"Thank you for being in my story," I sigh. The sleep makes the regret that should follow my words impossible. My eyes droop and I am warm.

"Thanks for being in mine baby love," he whispers. I nod my reply and can feel my story hit a content moment. So this is what it feels like to share your story with someone.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: t&a: Not sure how many times we can say this without being totally redundant, but you guys are amaaaazing. We love you.**

**So, we've got lots of love but no ownership except for, you know, what we do own lol. Hope you enjoy!**

_A mistake on the part of nature_

_It's forgive and move on_

_Won't wear my Sunday suit to walk that street_

_That would feel Byzantine_

_Silhouette, tell me a tall tale, go_

_Shout it out_

_Silhouette, shout it from the top_

_Sweet talk, sweet talk_

_Your sweet talk, sweet talk_

_Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk- The New Pornographers_

x*x

I prefer running in the morning. It's freeing. The way my lungs strain and my feet pound into the pavement- it's an invigorating way to start the day.

I had a doctor appointment this morning though, and the middle of the afternoon with people clogging the streets is too frustrating to try and run in. So I'm running now because if Walt doesn't run, he walks around the apartment knocking shit over with his tail and pissing all over the place.

When I first moved in with my parents, I was all over the place. I was buzzing with anger and sadness and had nowhere to release it. And then my dad forced me out of bed one morning and took me running.

My t-shirt is soaked through by the time I get back to my street. I slip into the bar from the back- it's my night off- and take the stairs up.

And sitting outside my door with that laptop open on her lap and bags surrounding her is Bella. She's so immersed in her little Facebook world that she doesn't notice us until Walt gallops up and laps at her face.

"Hi," she says to him, and pats his head. "You're learning some manners at least. Kisses should always come before groping."

I laugh at her words. I'm happy to see her here. Happy she seems to enjoy my company as much as I do hers. It's funny how you don't realize you're missing something until it's there. I didn't realize how lacking I was in companionship.

"Remind me to make you a key," I tell her and pull her up from the ground.

"Oh," she says and straightens her clothes out. "You don't have to do that. I don't mind waiting for you. It'd be nice but I might lose it."

"I trust you," I say and brush my hand over her braid, tugging it slightly. "Have you been waiting long?"

She shakes her head, eyes wide, and she's just so fucking adorable. I tug a little harder on her braid, tilting her face up, and kiss her. I don't think I've ever enjoyed kissing someone so much before. It's something that I just like to do- like hugging. But the way she responds to me just makes it impossible for me to resist kissing her.

"Is that Doctor Pepper?" I ask when I pull away.

She looks at me in confusion so I lean forward and lick her bottom lip. I hum in approval. "You have Dr. Pepper lips."

"It's my chapstick," she says breathlessly.

"Well, I like it." I tug on her braid again and then slide my hand down her back to her waist. "Let's go inside."

She nods and squats down to pick all of her bags up off the floor.

"What is all of this?"

"I wanted to cook for you," she says. I take 2 bags from her and push the door open. "You know, as a thank you for the other night."

"You're gonna cook for me, B?" I ask and grin because the idea is really cute. "Does that mean I get to perform sexual favors on you in gratitude?"

She rolls her eyes and starts unpacking the bags. "Everything is about sex with you. That's not what it means. But you should go shower while I get this together because your odor is offensive right now."

I laugh and give her ass a little swat. "I like you feisty. It's sexy. Wanna help me shower?"

She blushes and turns away from me. "No. I already took a shower today, thanks."

"Too bad." I put my hand on her stomach and press into her back. "What are you making me?"

She swats at my hand and pushes me away. "It's a surprise. Now go."

I squeeze her hip and start walking away. "If I take long it's because I'm wacking it and probably need a hand. So come find me."

I hear a bunch of shit fall to the ground and laugh all the way to the bathroom.

x*x

When I get out of the shower, the apartment is filled with a strange burnt smell and I can hear Bella speaking to Walt.

I stop outside of the kitchen to listen. Walt's tail is thumping against the floor. "You can't have any of this, Walter," she scolds. "I made just enough for me and Edward. Next time I promise to factor you in though."

I peak around the corner and see her standing, hands on her hips, looking at Walt who's sitting politely and panting at her.

"Really," she huffs out and pats his head. "You'd think that if your dad can teach you to molest girls, he'd have taught you to understand no."

I stroll into the kitchen then. "I barely understand no- you think I can teach it?"

I try not to laugh when she gapes at me.

"Aren't you going to put on a shirt for dinner?" she asks, and her eyes race over my chest frantically.

"I'm still hot from my run. And starving. When you're done staring can we eat?"

Her face turns bright red again and she looks away.

"So, what is this?" I ask.

"Pumpkin pancakes," she says and starts preparing a plate for me.

She looks so pleased and excited that I don't have the heart to tell her that I hate pumpkin. She sits down across from me, folds her hands on the table, and stares at me expectantly.

I cut off a piece and wave my fork in the air with fake enthusiasm before putting it in my mouth. And, honestly, I had fully intended to pretend that I enjoyed it.

But.

I gag. Because it's impossible not to. The taste is just disgusting. Burnt and pumpkin mixed with something pumpkin shouldn't be mixed with ever again. I spit it out into a napkin and then wash the taste down with an entire glass of water before looking at Bella.

She's staring down at her hands which she moved into her lap. Her hair is blocking her face from me entirely. I clear my throat and drum my fingers on the table.

"So," I begin, "how 'bout McDonalds?"

She pushes away from the table with such force that her chair topples over. Her lips part, cheeks flame, and she bends to straighten the chair, mumbling away the entire time.

She starts piling the plates and she still hasn't shown me her face.

"McDonalds," I make out through her incoherent mumbling. "Can't even… McDonalds. So stupid Bella."

It's not until I hear her sniffle that I stand up. I take the dishes from her and put them back down on the table. "Hey," I say and wrap my hands around her forearms. "Bella, look at me."

"Not until you put a shirt on," she says through her sniffles.

I tangle my fingers in her hair and tug until she lifts her head. "Why are you crying?" I keep my voice soft—the way I speak to Finn's friends when they fall down and hurt themselves.

"Because it sucked," she says and tries to look away from me.

Even though I can't stand to see her big watery brown eyes all sad and shit because of me, I tug on her again until she looks back up.

"Don't cry." I wipe the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs.

"I just wanted to do something nice for you."

"Girl, stop crying." I lean in and kiss her nose. "It's one of the nicest things anyone's done for me. Seriously. Even if I hate pumpkin." I kiss her forehead next. "Thank you."

Her arms go around my waist and she presses her face into my chest. I tighten my hold on her and wait. Because this is more than just failed pumpkin pancakes. And it's been a really long time since anyone but Finn's needed me. I like the feeling.

I put my feet on either side of hers, sealing her against me.

"Besides, Walt will love them," I say into her ear. "Give him food and he'll never let your pretty tits out of his paws again."

She lets out a watery laugh and pulls away. "Fine. Let's go to McDonalds. But if you try to force any of that fake meat in me, I'll make pumpkin pancakes for you every day for a month."

x*x

"I can't believe you just ate three meals in there," Bella says when we leave McDonalds to go back to the apartment. I laugh. "Seriously, Edward, that's disgusting."

"I can never decide which one I want." I shrug and take her hand in mine. "Are you staying over tonight?"

I want her answer to be yes so much that it even takes me by surprise.

She looks at me warily. "I don't think—"

"Come _on_," I whine and drape my arm over her shoulders to pull her against me. "Don't leave me by myself tonight."

"You have Walter."

I laugh at her words. "Yeah, I know, but I get really lonely when Finn's not around." Yeah, I know, I'm a dick for playing the lonely single dad card but whatever. What's that they say about when you want something you have to go and get it? It's my personal motto.

I stop walking and turn to face her with my hands on her shoulders. She looks up at me and I see exactly when she gives in. I smile brightly and kiss her quickly. I'm not a serious relationship type of person. I've got Finn, my parents, and Emmett and that's where any and all long term relationships stop.

But I want this fucking girl around all the time. Literally. It's so bizarre.

"Fine," she sighs and tucks herself back into my side. "Where is Finn anyway?"

"At his moms tonight. She had a family something or other and wanted him for the night."

"Oh." The hand on my waist flexes and unflexes. "What's she like?"

"Savannah? She's great. She's a nurse at the County Hospital. That's where I met her."

"That's good," she says quietly.

"Yeah, we get along really well, thank god."

I let us in through the back entrance and follow her up the stairs. As I'm putting the key in the lock, Bella asks, "So why aren't you still together?"

Her eyes are downcast and she's biting on her fucking thumb again. I wouldn't be surprised if she's chewed it raw. I pull her hand away from her mouth and press my body into hers. She looks up at me in shock when her back hits the wall.

I take her other hand and lift both up above her head.

"Why are we talking about my kid's mom?" I ask and press my body completely against hers, nudging her legs apart so that I can stand in between them. "Hm?" I ask when she doesn't answer.

She shakes her head slightly and her eyes drop to my mouth. "Doesn't seem reasonable," I skim my free hand down her side to her hip, "when we can be doing this."

Her lips part and I dip my head and cover them, immediately slipping my tongue into her mouth. She gasps and shifts against me.

I keep trying to figure out what this is between us. Or, mostly, why she turns me on so much. But every time I kiss her, she bursts to life and it's just so fucking sexy. The awkwardness and innocence disappear entirely.

I roll my hips in a slow grind against hers and she gasps again—probably because she didn't expect me to be hard already. I slide my hand back up over her shirt and palm her tit. When I squeeze it, she groans and her head falls back against the wall.

I drop my lips to her neck and kiss her open mouthed. When I drop my hand to cup her ass, hers tangle in my hair. I squeeze her ass and grind my dick into her.

"Edward," she gasps and tugs on my hair. I ignore her and switch hands so I can take care of her other tit. She groans and arches her back, pushing into my hand. "Edward, we can't do this here."

"Yes we can." I cover her mouth with mine again.

She pulls back. "We're in the hallway," she pants.

"It's my hallway."

She puts her hands on my chest and pushes weakly. "Can we go inside?"

I nod and drop my head to her shoulder. Her arms go around me and we both just stand there, breathing heavily, wrapped up in each other.

"That was too fast." I pull back and put my hands on either side of her head. "I lose control around you."

"You have control?" she asks.

I snort and kiss her again. "What I have are blue balls and a pretty girl standing in front of me."

She rolls her eyes at me and swats my chest. "Walter is about to break through the door."

And he is, I hear his nails ruining the wood on my door right now. "He's jealous."

"Of what?"

"Walt's got issues with sharing," I tell her. "He could sense that I was touching your tits. He thinks they belong to him."

"Oh for god's sake, Edward."

I drop my head back and laugh loudly before pulling her into the apartment.

x*x

"Do you need something to sleep in?"

Bella's sitting awkwardly at the end of my bed with her hands wrung tightly in her lap. As if she hasn't been in it before.

"Um, yes please."

I toss her a white t-shirt. "None of my pants will fit you but the shirt's long."

She blushes and grips the shirt until her knuckles are white.

"Hey," I say and stand directly in front of her. "Chill out. You're acting like we didn't almost just fuck each other in the hallway. Be calm, yeah?"

I run my finger down her really warm cheek and smile when she nods up at me.

"Anyway, I need to go take care of this," I wave my hand over my dick, "so that I don't sleep fuck you. Just get in bed, okay?"

Her eyes widen and she nods quickly. I run my hand down her hair and then drop a kiss on her forehead before turning towards the bathroom.

x*x

When I come back into the bedroom, the lights are dim and Bella's tucked underneath my covers. She's curled up on her side petting and mumbling to Walt who's sitting there with his head on the pillow right in front of her face. It's really sweet. If I didn't feel such an urgency to join her under those covers, I'd go get my camera and take a picture of it.

"Should I leave the two of you alone?" I ask.

She smiles at me through heavy lids. "You want me to snuggle Walter instead of you?" she asks.

"Not a chance." I climb under the covers, wrap my arms around her, and tug until she's flush against me. Walt growls and starts to climb up on the bed. "Down, Walt." He whimpers and walks away.

Bella giggles and rubs her cheek against my hand. "Will you tell me a story?" she asks.

This girl loves her stories. I rub my hand up and down her stomach, opting to stay away from the danger zones above and beneath. "What kind of story?"

"Tell me about the house on your back. Tell me about the little boy who lived there."

"The house on my back," I begin with a sigh, "is the first house that I ever lived in. Until Finn was born, it's where all of my best memories were."

She rolls over to face me and slips her fingers under my shirt and starts scratching my back lightly. "Why?" she whispers. "What happened there?"

I slip my hand into her hair and give her a small smile. She rubs her nose against mine, just twice, and I realize that this may be the most intimate I've ever been with anyone emotionally. "It's where my parents were. I lived there until I was nine."

"And then you moved?" She uses me to pull herself closer, until she's pressed up against me and slips her leg in between mine. Not gonna lie, her initiating physical contact like that is a little shocking.

"I moved, yeah." I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "My parents were killed in a car accident."

The words, over the years, have gotten a lot easier to say.

She inhales sharply and buries her face in my neck. "I can't even imagine how hard that must have been," she says softly and kisses the space where my neck and shoulder meet.

I rub my hand up and down her back. "It was. I was a fucking miserable piece of shit to be around for the next six or seven years. I felt really sorry for myself but the truth is that I got really lucky. I got placed with two fucking amazing people when I was thirteen which is unheard of, you know? Nobody adopts obnoxious angry teenagers. So I really can't complain all that much."

I've never shared this much with anyone, if I'm being honest. This is mostly shit that I worked out on my own over the years. Releasing it, finally, feels fucking amazing. And saying it to her, to this fantastic fucking little girl who's wrapped herself around me in her warmth and her untainted love and innocence feels so right right now.

"That's a little bit of a happy ending, right?" she asks and looks up at me. Her eyes are huge and filled with so much genuine empathy and understanding. "And then Finn? Even more?"

I nod. "I wouldn't change it now. I wish I could share it, you know? With them? But I'd never change any of it now."

"You can share it with Finn. I bet they're so happy for you. So proud of your life."

She leans in and pecks the left side of my mouth, then the right, and then the center. She sticks there, kissing me slowly and lazily and I let her pace it, let her control it because she started it and she should be in charge of it. I pull her closer to me though, and when I feel her tongue probing I part my lips and let her in.

She maintains the slow pace, doing a thorough sweep of my mouth before tangling her tongue with mine. Her fingers press into my spine and slide up and down and it feels so fucking good.

"Bella, baby," I say and pull away. "We're in my bed."

She nods and leans in to kiss me again.

"Let's stop," I tell her and trace her cheek. "Unless you're willing to finish it. Because in about five minutes I'm really going to want to fuck you even more than I do right now, and I'm not gonna be able to stop myself."

She nods and brushes her nose against mine again. "Thanks for telling me your story," she says softly. "It only makes you more to me."

I lean in and kiss her just once. "Thanks for listening to it."

She rubs her cheek against my arm and then her eyes drift shut. And we fall asleep just like that, tangled and dressed and maybe a little lighter than we were before.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N- t&a- first off the reviews are AMAZING. They blow us straight back onto our asses and we LOVE it. We apologize for not replying before posting this, but we figured you'd forgive?**

**As usual, we don't own, sadly, just borrow and mold for our own amusement…**

_I heard you found some pretty words to say_

_You found your little game to play_

_And there's no one allowed in_

_Then just when we believed we could be great_

_Reality, it permeates_

_It conquers from within again_

_These days we go to waste like wine_

_That's turned to turpentine_

_Till it's 6am and I'm all messed up_

_I didn't mean to waste your time_

_So I'll fall back in line_

_But I'm warning you, we're growing up_

_Turpnetine- Brandi Carlile_

I've always had the most vivid dreams. Vivid and unforgettable. During high school I had reoccurring dreams about being artificially inseminated by all the members of NSYNC. Given the fact that my dreams have always held much more action than reality, I'm always reluctant to leave them. Apparently this morning and this dream are no exception.

I'm warm. Too warm really. My whole body feels on fire, but unable to move from the source of the fire. The odd thing is that as much as I hate being hot when I'm sleeping, I don't want to move. The fire is moving, mostly against my back. It's solid and heat and friction. I push my body back into it and relish the burn.

And then the heat begins to move, its still covering my back, but then it creeps forward, up my sides, across my stomach. Instinctually I press back into the heat once more. The heat emits a noise, half groan, half moan.

My heart races, my breathing picks up and I want to see, need to see. But my vision is filled with hazy colors, the fiery reds and blues that match this heat. I can feel my eyes fight this lack of stimulation. I've never been unable to see before. When the heat encases my boobs everything changes. My eyes finally snap open, the dreamy haze and fire melting away.

I'm still pressing back into the fire, which is still humming and moaning in my ear. Slowly everything comes into focus. The grey paint on the wall across from me, remnants of clothing across the floor. And suddenly the panting in my ear seems less like a fire and more like….Edward.

My body tenses and it awakens even more. The heat, the fire wasn't my dream. It was my wakeup call. I push my body back once more this time more out of curiosity than the need for heat. I can feel all of him. Mostly the hard stiffness against my ass. For a moment I panic thinking a small pair of feet could enter at any moment, but then my mental calendar kicks in. Its Saturday. No Finn.

"Right there girl," he pants near my ear and I swallow thickly. The knots in my stomach argue whether they are from shock or the need to uncoil slowly. His hands knead my boobs again and I bite the inside of my cheek to fight the moan that wants to pour out from me. I clench my eyes shut and fight off the need to push back again.

Apparently I don't need to push back because Edward presses forward, his hips circling and pressing and urgent. One of his hands reaches up and turns my head towards him just enough that he can cover my mouth with his. And then I'm swallowing his moans. As much as I want to be shocked. As much as my mother would want me to be horrified, I open my mouth and take in his moans willingly.

His tongue reaches out for mine and I'm only slightly horrified that I haven't brushed my teeth. I press my tongue against his and the pressure increases. My heart matches the urgency of his hips and then he tears his mouth away from mine.

"Shit little girl, you have no idea how god damned good that feels," he groans, his lips then staking claim on the back of my neck. My panting is mirroring his and then I feel him tense behind me.

"Shiiiiiit," he hisses and his hips are flush against my ass, his dick twitching. His breathing slows down and his kisses return, soft and lazy against my still open mouth. His hands trail back up my stomach to palm my boobs before trailing slowly downwards.

"I needed to wake up like that. We should wake up like that every day," he chuckles. His lips move to the shell of my ear and I try to pull away. I hate my ears. His lips follow.

"Don't try to run from me, I have you trapped," he teases. My heart races again as his fingers trace the edge of my sweats, dipping lower to feel the lace edge of my boy briefs.

"You know the best part of getting off?" he asks, his breath heavy on my ear. I shake my head and try to calm my racing heart and shaking hands. His fingers dip barely into the lace and my whole stomach clenches.

"Returning the favor," he answers his own question. The racing of my heart makes it feel like I might be falling of a cliff or at the very least having a premature heart attack. His fingers reach the curls guarding the holy land and now I'm really awake. I push my feet against his calves and shimmy out of bed. One arm goes to cover my bra less chest while the other attempts to calm my bed head.

"I'm just gonna grab a shower," I announce. He smirks up at me, ready to make some comment, but I grab my bag and rush into the bathroom, slamming the door. I lean up against it and curse my still racing heart and the tightly wound coil in my belly. I twist the nozzles on the shower, grateful that there isn't a trick to his shower. The last thing I need is to have to call him in here.

I take a couple of deep breaths and try to not be pleased about what just happened. I should be pissed. He used me to get off. He was willing to repay, but still. This is, too much. I place a hand on either side of my head and clench my eyes shut. All we've done before is kiss. Kiss and back scratch and that all can be neatly listed under the 'friends maybe more' category, but this. This is a whole new category, requires a new definition.

The room begins to fill with steam and I take it as a cue to make use of the shower. I pull open the frosted glass door and step beneath the stream of water. The slight pain from the searing heat of the water takes my mind off the throb below. My hand rests low on my stomach, twitching against the slick skin. It would be easy to fix this problem.

"You sure you don't want my help with that? It looks like you do," His voice causes me to drop the soap in my hand. The steam and the frosted glass make it hard to see his face, but I can see his hazy form leaning against the sink and staring. I turn away from him, my hands covering the bits that he can't see in his current category. My eyes fixate on the rubber ducky in the corner and I'm mortified I almost tainted the toys painted eyes.

"You're looking a little too much. I've never had anybody else worry about that. I mean they didn't need to. Just don't think about it anymore," I spit. I hope I sound pissed, like someone who demands being listened to. His chuckle echoes off the bathroom walls and I tense as the sound bounces off my skin. I glare at him over my shoulder and try to think of the best way to get out of this.

"But I want to help you, I can't just forget about it," He insists. At least he isn't moving to come into the shower. I don't know what I would do if he made that move. At least I have the glass between us. Not that it's much of anything.

"You can't just want to do that. I don't let just anybody into the holy land," I answer. My face flushes, but he can't see that. I really just told him the name of my girly playground. I press my forehead against the surprisingly cool tile of the shower. I need to get out of here. He clouds my thoughts, my judgment. I need clarity.

"It's common courtesy baby love. I got off and so should you. Plus, I wanna play more in the holy land," he laughs. I shake my head against the tile. The throb continues and I send a message downwards that I know it's a traitor. Suddenly the lack of classification for what we are begins to drown me. Where else does he play?

"There is restricted access to the holy land. One at a time and things like that," my voice comes out shallow, weak. I'm angry it sounds like I feel. I'm torn between wanting him no matter what and feeling like I need to know more. That more of the story needs to be defined, set to words, before I can move in any direction.

"What do you mean? There's only one of me, first of all. And second, you've never fantasized about being with more than one guy?" he asks. His voice is still sure and sound and I'm crumbling. I've been going about this without thought to it catching up to me. I shake my head and switch off the water. I reach my hand out of the shower and listen to him chuckle before placing a towel in my outstretched hand. I snatch it back in with me and wrap it tightly around me before stepping out.

"No. I only want one. I only need one. But that one has to be a lot of things and I just don't think….we should be talking about this. I should go," I stammer. His fingers trace the edge of the towel and I swallow hard under his gaze. I am frozen as his eyes take me in. Not that I would move even if I could. This is the best kind of trapped there is.

"I just want to make you feel good. There's nothing wrong with wanting to feel good," he argues. I clench my teeth against the moan that is trying to work its way out of my mouth. In a different world, a different time, a different chapter maybe I could just enjoy the simply sensation of his fingers on me, but my head is already on overload. Trying to calculate and organize the influx of foreign feelings currently reeking havoc on me.

My clouded mind prevents me from seeing his lips approach my own. The pressure is sure and measured. He presses his lips against mine several times waiting I can only imagine for my natural instinct to kick in and my mouth to fall open. I fight against the reflex and open my mouth only slightly and enough to suck his bottom lip into my mouth. Despite the war of words and feelings currently raging in my mind, this will always feel right, safe.

I can feel his smile against my lips as I release his bottom lip and pull away slightly. His breath is heavy and hot against my face. I can't even find it in me to care that he still hasn't brushed away his sleep. My thoughts finally begin to take coherent shape and I look up at him through wet eyelashes.

His eyes are dark and hooded as he looks down at me. I push him gently away from me and towards the doors, hoping my eyes are saying the right things. Telling him that I want him, but I'm not sure in which way. For once his follows my silent instructions and back out of the room, leaving me panting and confused in a room full of fog.

I lean my head against the tiled wall and breathe purposefully trying to gather all my thoughts. Some more responsible, instinctual part of my brain takes over and I'm going through the motions without thought.

When I push open the bathroom door Edward is sitting on the edge of his bed and fighting with a knotted sneaker. He glances up at me in the midst of his efforts and shoots me a smirk. I smile softly back him as I pick my way through the room, gathering my things methodically. I can't help but smile when I see one of Finn's shoes under Edward's bed.

"Thanks for eating the nasty food I tried to cook. And don't worry about the holy land. I'll see you later?" I say as I back towards the door. He drops the shoe to the floor and starts towards me. I take a step back for each of his steps forward and I watch as his frustration slowly creeps across his features.

"Why are you leaving?" he asks. I could be honest. I could tell him that he has my mind is such a frenzy that I don't want to think about what could happen if I stayed. Tell him that all the tender kisses and soft touches mean something to me that I can't define. But I can't.

"There are things I need to do at home today," I offer. Not a lie, but not the truth. Some vague place in-between. The look on his face tells me he knows that I'm holding back.

"If you go home and finish yourself off I'm going to be insulted," he grumbles. My mouth drops open and I shut it quickly. The throb that I had so delicately ignored now rears its angry head again. I almost cross my legs to hold it in. His words stop our game of chase and he moves close enough to touch. I take a deep breath and try to seize control. I clench my eyes shut for a brief moment and then open them once more to look up at him. I press myself up on my toes so that I can brush my lips against his delicately.

I don't know what's going to happen when I leave. My mind is a traitorous place and I don't know if I will allow myself this simple pleasure later. So I savor the touch and his taste before I push through the door.

For once his words don't chase me down the stairs and by the time the sun warms my skin my mind has already begun to work furiously, trying to put everything into place. I take the walk slowly, letting the sun abuse my skin as I try to gain clarity. My words have to be prepared for when I share them with my sounding board.

I push against the door of my studio and look at the computer sitting vigil in the center of my futon. I bring my thumb to my mouth and chew on the nail as I try to resist the urge to run towards my solace. The routine of taking off my shoes and straightening my tiny space is an act of restraint. To prove to myself that I do have some kind of self-control. Despite what it seems with I am with him.

After pushing my limits I finally settle in on the bed and pull open the computer. The hum and light calms me instantly, like knowing all my problems will soon be solved, or at the very least acknowledged. I tinker on my homepage and acknowledge several posts on my wall, but I'm really waiting. As soon as her name appears I sigh in relief.

_Isabella Swan- thank god._

_Alice Brandon- did we have a date?_

I lean over my computer and feel comforted by the sound of my fingers tapping the keys. Already my mind seems like a friendlier place.

_Isabella Swan- no I just really need to talk to you. _

I'm not going to even mess the small talk. The last thing I need is to get caught up in the drama Alice constantly creates in her life. Laundry can be a world-changing event in the life of Alice Brandon.

_Alice Brandon- so talk. what's going on?_

Her words flip a switch in my mind and I can feel it all rushing, bubbling forward.

_Isabella Swan- how far can you go before you're more than friends? do friends kiss? with tongue? do the bases still apply after college?_

My chest feels lighter and I wiggle impatiently as I wait for her answer. My mind has already begun to lean in one direction, partial to one outcome.

_Alice Brandon- well….._

My breath catches at her delayed answer. I should be able to work this out on my own, without the aid of my virtual friends, but I like my crutch too much to stop leaning on it.

_Alice Brandon- repeated kisses definitely lean towards more than friends. tongue is usually more than friends. as for the bases…..they still exist. just not as concrete. why?_

I read and reread her words feeling my lips twitch into a smile. My mind triumphs in its new ally. But before my tingling fingers can reply, her name appears again.

_Alice Brandon- BUT be careful. sometimes people who throw shit around like that don't give a shit about who they hurt. he could be a massive dick and a player._

Everything crumbles around me. My mind once again wrapped in the same argument. It's hard for me to shine that kind of light on Edward. He's my adventure, my page turner. Seeing him as the villain doesn't settle right. The two Edward's stand opposing in my overactive mind and my chest constricts as I realize it doesn't really matter which one he is.

_Isabella Swan- I know. I just….i want it to mean something, but I don't want to get in too deep. And it's complicated. So complicated._

And there is it. My true fear. The fear of being a tragic hero, of being left alone, or returning to the beginning of my story alone again, but worse for the wear having known what it feels like to be filled.

_Alice Brandon- quit being such a drama queen. take a chance. even if it is just a fling, you could use a good roll in the sheets. you need to loosen up._

They're not the words I wanted. Not the obvious command to go after it. That he would be a fool not to want me, but they are enough. Enough to give in to myself. Enough to give myself permission to go back, to step even further into this. I feel only slightly guilty for still hiding Finn from the picture. I know it should change things, but he only adds to the draw.

_Isabella Swan- you're right. It doesn't have to be anything more than it is. _

I ration with my own mind. I can do this. I can wade in deeper into Edward. I can enjoy his intriguing child and read Harry Potter without getting attached. I can give him more and still be ok. I'm strong enough to pull out without getting hurt. I repeat this to myself several times, my will increasing with each internal chant.

My face stretches with a smile now that I can indulge in my fascination without anything pulling me back. Everything points in the direction of more and that's enough of a classification for me. For now.

* * *

I only feel mildly silly about the fact that I actually thought about what to wear. I mean he's seen me in every version of myself and yet I wanted to be….more. More than the sleep clothes and more than the work skirts. I twist in front of the small mirror and see the dress from all angles. It's not a huge stretch. I wear skirts a lot. This is just a bigger, longer skirt. At least that's how I am reasoning with myself to get out the door.

The night air has a slight bite and I shiver a little as I walk. My flip flops scrape the ground in the beat of some slightly familiar song that is pulling me towards him. My hand reaches out to pluck a leaf from a low branch and I feel content. This is what I want. Him. The possibility of something more and his mouth on mine, as often as he wants.

It's later than I usually enter the bar and the noise is heavy, hanging in the air making it thick. I push through it, resolved in my new found determination. I know its just my imagination that makes the door heavy, harder to push. The room is packed with bodies. The small groups clustered together making a small maze between them.

I don't have to see him to know that he's in the bar. There's a pulse in the air that reaches to my bones, I can feel him. The pulse pulls me along and I take note of all the people, the expressions on their faces and wonder about their stories. Wonder where they are. If their story has just begun or if this is the twilight of their adventures.

His laughter reaches me before I see his face and the sound starts a slow fire inside of me. The memories of this morning still fresh in my mind and the pressure low in my belly picks up again, refusing to die down. Maybe I should have let him untwist me like he offered.

A smile plays on my lips at the thought and then the crowd parts like something out of a cheesy romantic comedy. But the scene it reveals is hardly something worthy of that classification.

The profile of the scene is laid out for me, like I was the intended audience., My eyes take it all in slowly. The arch of his back as he leans over the table, the flex of his arms as they hold his weight. The dip of his head and then his lips. His soft, sweet lips moving slowly and surely over another's. I take so long watching him that she's almost an afterthought. My eyes examine her quickly, hoping against hope that her image won't be burned in my mind. That I won't have it to scrutinize later, but I know that won't be true.

I drag my eyes back to their lips, where they are connected and wish that it was over already, but he tilts his head, slanting his lips further over hers and I want to collapse. Their mouths are open and I can see glimpses of their tongues. I swallow hard and try not to fall back into the crowd.

Suddenly all of my self-assuredness and Alice's seemingly friendly push seem wrong. Of course it wasn't anything to him. He owns a bar and has stories written in his skin. Those kind of characters don't pine and fall for the ensemble.

I want to tear my eyes away, but I have to see it finished. After what seems like an eternity he pulls away slowly, sealing her lips shut with a chaste kiss. His smile is slow and easy and he turns to the rest of the table talking like he didn't just suck off her face. She smiles and rubs a familiar hand down his arm.

Her touch is what pushes me over. The gentle touch wasn't something new. I wonder if Finn knows her name too. I back my way through the crowd reluctant to break gaze from the table, worried that my mind might try and make sense of it. To write him a way out of it. But I don't want to give him a way out.

Maybe this is better. To know this now. To know that all the stolen kisses and long touches were just part of who he is. They didn't mean anything. Just one person's way of connecting to the world around him.

Maybe he just brings random girls home to serve as part time babysitters. Maybe I'm just one of many who have attempted to sound like Snape and Ron. Like it's some sick game to him. The walk back to the studio is a blur of street lamps and foliage.

When I shut the door behind me I slide down it, finding a strange comfort in being on the floor. Nothing can shake or move me from the floor, I'm already at my lowest. Eventually, I don't know how much later, I drag myself to my futon, my body still wrapped in the dress that was supposed to make his eyes light up.

I push my computer carelessly to the floor, not caring what damage may befall it. I feel betrayed by all the pillars in my life. My overactive mind, my sounding wall and….him.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N t&a: holy, holy, holy motherfucking shit. you people are absolutely fucking amazing. we're **_**so, so **_**overwhelmed and ecstatic and just full of love for you guys and all of your support. thank you, thank you a million times over.**

**a huge, **_**huge **_**thank you to everyone that has recc'ed us (*ahem* GreenEyedGirl17 *AHEM*)—you guys are wonderful. we wanna have your babies.**

**and for some exciting news, TwistedCoincidence is up for the FGB bid. go bid on her! ****thefandomgivesback(dot)com**

**and finally, we don't own twilight or SM or anything except for what we actually do own. thank you again—enjoy!**

_Talk of yesterday like bargain shoe strings  
She will kick the car and find her friends.  
Say tomorrow and then  
She'll describe some old communion cups  
And someone's coat.  
But say today and she may look your way  
And lead you home.  
_"Communion Cups and Someone's Coat" Iron & Wine

"Mini E, how many times do I have to tell you this?" I hear Emmett ask Finn. Part of me sometimes wonders if the E in his nickname for the kid stands for Edward or for Emmett. Secretly, I'm pretty sure Em wants a little replica of himself that he wouldn't ever have to actually deal with.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I not mini?" Finn responds.

"You are mini, kid. You're smaller than me anyway and that's what counts."

I only have a small part of my attention focused on their conversation. The majority of it is focused completely on the computer screen in front of me. I scan the page with my eyes narrowed.

"Listen, Finnigan—"

Finn blows out a frustrated raspberry and probably has his arms crossed over his chest in frustration. Emmett loves to piss the kid off almost as much as he likes to piss me off.

"Daddy, tell him I not Finnigan."

"Next time he's with one of his pretty lady friends call him Emily, Huck. It'll make him stop," I offer distractedly.

"Dude, the rule number one of guy code is never cock block," Emmett says.

"What's cock block?"

"Emmett," I snap. "Seriously?"

"Sorry, man. The kid's got old eyes. I forget he's only three."

"How can you forget how old he is? He doesn't even reach your hip."

"There are 40 year old midgets that don't reach my hip, Ed," he says, as if I'm the stupid one. "Anyway, as I was saying. Don't listen to your dad, Finn. Number one rule is actually to never mess one of your boys chances up with a girl. You got me?"

I look over at them and Finn is lying back with his head on Walt. "Got you," he says with a nod.

"Rule number two is that you're never supposed to be mean to girls. Remember? This is what we were talking about last time. If you're nice, they'll do anything for you."

I roll my eyes and scan Bella's Facebook page. I friend requested her under the name Andrew Lake and she accepted it a few minutes ago. I wouldn't resort to this type of creepy stalker action but the girl's been MIA for the past five days and I don't have any way of reaching her ass.

It's fucking weird too that she would randomly disappear unless I really freaked her out by cumming all over myself just from grinding on her. Which, admittedly, is kind of juvenile on my part but I haven't fucked anyone in months. Anyway, I don't see how something like that would make her disappear.

So, I'm Facebook stalking her. Because I saw her every day for at least a month up until five days ago. She might be sick. I cancelled out the dead option after she accepted my request.

"What's this?"

I try and minimize the page before Emmett sees it because I'm not in the mood to hear his mouth, but he pushes my hand aside and whistles. "This is the infamous Bella?"

"Issybella's here?" Finn asks excitedly and Walt's tail starts thumping.

"No," I sigh, "Bella's not here."

"Daddy, I wanna play date with Issybella. I miss her."

I rub my forehead. "You had to, right?" I ask Emmett.

He shrugs.

"Daddy, ask Issybella if she wants to have a play date with me."

"Aright, Finn. Go get your pajamas on."

I try to knock Emmett's hand off of the track pad because he's scrolling through Bella's page like he's a detective or some shit.

"Can I wear the batman jamas again?" Finn asks.

"Sleeping naked's more comfortable, dude," Emmett tells him. I slap Emmett on the back of the head hard.

Finn frowns at him. "I like my batman jamas. Naked time is only for the bath, right, daddy?"

"Right, Huck. Don't listen to Uncle Emmett. Go get changed."

Once Finn is in his room, I look over at Emmett who has now kidnapped the computer and is still looking over Bella's page with way too much interest on his face.

"You're such an asshole," I tell him.

He waves a hand at me and nods. "I am an asshole. But who the fuck is Andrew Lake?"

I sigh. "The girl fucking disappeared out of nowhere. I'm just trying to figure out where she's at."

"So… wait." He holds a hand up. "You made a fake Facebook account? Did you ever think that maybe she disappeared because you're a fucking nutjob? You couldn't have called her? Or, hell, made your own account?"

I sigh and drop my head back on the couch. "Obviously I have a problem."

"No," he says and puts the computer down on the coffee table. "Problems are things with solutions. You have issues. Lots and lots of incurable issues. You're so fucking creepy, dude."

"Oh, fuck off, Emmett."

"Just go find her or something, dude. This stalker shit is weird. She's cute though, so if it doesn't work out for you, gime her number."

"Daddy," Finn comes back into the room before I can curse off or kill Emmett. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

"Yeah, Huck, I'll meet you in there."

"Uncle Emmett, you like my jamas?"

Emmett stands and lifts the kid high up in the air. "These are cool as hell, man. Can I borrow them tomorrow?"

Finn giggles and pats Emmett's cheek. "You're too big, Uncle Emmett."

"Well, can you find my size for me?"

Finn nods seriously at him. "Daddy, can we find jamas for Uncle Emmett?"

"Yeah, we'll get him some Barbie ones for his birthday," I say and stand up. "Gime my kid, Em." I hold my arms out and Finn climbs into them. "Say good night to Uncle Emmett. He's leaving."

Emmett laughs and Finn leans over to kiss his cheek. "Good night."

"Night, Finn. Ed, I'll talk to you later."

I lock the door behind Emmett and then lift Finn high up in the air and make plane noises into the bedroom. When I drop him on the bed, he giggles loudly.

I never understood it, honestly, the whole fulfillment of parenthood thing until I heard this kid laugh for the first time because of me. His eyes light up and he smiles and it's literally fucking perfection. It's the type of thing that I want to bottle up and keep forever. Making this tiny ass person that I helped create happy feels fucking amazing.

"Get under the covers, Huck. I'll be right back."

"Can Walt sleep with us too? He feels lonely on the floor," Finn asks from under the covers.

I walk back to the bed and lean over him. "And where should I sleep? Under the bed?" I ask and tickle him.

He howls with laughter. "Okay! Okay! No more!"

I smile down at him and drop a kiss on his forehead. "I'll be right back."

I walk into the kitchen first and grab four cookies and two glasses of milk and then slip my computer under my arm before walking back into the bedroom. "Look what I got," I say and wave the cookies in the air.

Finn sits up and claps with a shit eating grin on his face. If this kid could eat cookies for breakfast, lunch, and dinner he would. I sit down on top of the covers and hand him his cookies and his milk and then I lean back against the headboard. He slips into position under my arm.

"Daddy, can you get some of the white stuff only next time?" he asks and munches on the half of the chocolate that doesn't have any filling on it.

"Why?"

"Because I want more."

"I'll look for it," I tell him.

"That was yummy," he says when he finishes the second cookie.

"Drink your milk."

"I don't wanna."

"Drink your milk," I repeat. "Or I'll tickle you until you do."

"Fine," he sighs and gulps it all down before handing me the empty glass. I put both on the nightstand before I pull Finn into my side.

"Am I a comfy pillow?" I ask when he drops his head on my stomach.

He giggles tiredly and nods. "So comfy. Night, daddy. I love you."

"Love you too."

I stroke his back until his breathing evens out and he's definitely asleep and then I shift him to his pillow before sliding the laptop onto my lap. I gotta figure out what the fuck is going on with this girl.

I log onto the fake account and click to see who's online. Bingo.

_Andrew Lake: Hey, what's going on?_

I type the message out and then tap my fingers against the keyboard and wait for a response. She shouldn't be talking to fucking strangers online but I really, really want her to answer me right now.

_Isabella Swan: Ummm not much. You?_

_Andrew Lake: Nothing. Bored. I'm Andrew, by the way._

_Isabella Swan: Haha I'm Bella. Do we know each other? I mean… in real life?_

_Andrew Lake: Unfortunately, no. But I did a search on people with the same birthday as me and you were the prettiest one._

I did, too. I set my birthday to the same as hers for this reason exactly.

_Isabella Swan: Wow. Well never heard that one before. How about I just let you have the birthday? Take it off my hands?_

I grin stupidly at the screen because that's my Bella just with her Internet balls intact.

_Andrew Lake: No fun in that. We can share it. Do anything interesting tonight?_

_Isabella Swan: Interesting? Define interesting? You know what… don't. No, nothing interesting._

_Andrew Lake: Boyfriend didn't take you out?_

_Isabella Swan: That was a horrible way to ask if I have a boyfriend. The answer's no. Nothing like a boyfriend. Almost, maybe, I don't know…_

Bingoooo. She's too easy sometimes. Not that I'm happy to be called her almost, maybe, I don't know boyfriend when random strangers are hitting on her on the Internet. But it's a start.

_Andrew Lake: What's that mean exactly?_

_Isabella Swan: It means no._

And the fucking strangest thing happens. We obviously haven't labeled our relationship but her straight up fucking no makes my heart stop for a second.

_Isabella Swan: It means sometimes you should listen to your friends and your gut and that people are always what they seem._

Jesus Christ. This better be a lot bigger than me getting off in my shorts against her ass. Because I can't run to the bathroom every time I need to come to spare her feelings.

_Andrew Lake: Whoa who fucked with you? Wanna talk about it?_

Come on, Bella, tell me what the fuck I did to you.

_Isabella Swan: No one. It's no one's fault. I got too involved before I knew the whole story. Just found that out in the worst way._

_Andrew Lake: So? What's the whole story? Maybe I can help with the guy perspective thing._

_Isabella Swan: I don't need help figuring out. It figured itself out for me. In front of me. Pretty cut and dry. But thanks for offering._

I groan in frustration. Answer the fucking question please.

_Andrew Lake: Things aren't always what they seem. Sometimes explaining something out loud gives you perspective and takes away some of its power, you know? It can't hurt—you'll never even see me. Plus, my curiosity is off the radar._

_Isabella Swan: Haha well you know what you said about curiosity? Kind of like what they say when things seem too good to be true?_

Why the fuck is she so vague right now? Most of the time you can't get the girl to shut the fuck up with all of her rambling and shit and now she's talking in circles.

_Isabella Swan: He just helped me figure out that I don't want to be one of many. That maybe I don't share well._

I narrow my eyes at the screen and read her words over.

_Andrew Lake: Your almost, maybe, I don't know boyfriend cheated on you?_

_Isabella Swan: Can you cheat on someone you're not officially with?_

_Isabella Swan: Probably not. Like I said. No one's fault. Should have known better._

_Andrew Lake: So, how'd you find out?_

_Isabella Swan: Saw it. Watched it. Wanted to burn my eyes out after. Enough of this and me. Tell me a story about you._

I think back trying to figure out what the fuck she's talking about and then I realize what she saw and when. Fuck, fuck, fuck my life. Of course she saw that shit.

_Andrew Lake: I'll tell you this, B. If I've learned anything it's to fight for what you want. And when people piss you off you tell them, you don't hide from them. We miss you here. And I'm sorry if I hurt you._

I stare at the screen without blinking until my eyes water. I want her to fucking answer me right now. Five minutes pass and Finn's arm flings out and hits the computer and almost sends it straight to the floor. I steady it and leave the kid's hand where it is.

Finally, eleven fucking minutes later she responds.

_Isabella Swan: Edward?_

_Andrew Lake: Who else would this be?_

_Isabella Swan: I don't know. Maybe Andrew Lake._

_Isabella Swan: I can't. I don't. I have to go._

_Andrew Lake: This conversation isn't over, Bella._

_Isabella Swan: See the thing is… I was talking to Andrew Lake. This kind of obnoxious flirt online. Not you. Those words weren't for you. So yeah. The conversation is over._

_Andrew Lake: First of all, you shouldn't be flirting with strangers online. Second of all, the words were about me so they are for me. I have a right to know why you've suddenly disappeared from my life. Especially when my kid asks for you every day._

_Isabella Swan: You don't get to tell me what to do online. Or anywhere else. I don't owe you words like you don't owe me an explanation._

_Isabella Swan: And I'm sorry about Finn. Tell him I read Harry Potter and think about him._

And then her name goes inactive. God damn it. Talking to Bella online is not even close to being as good as having her in front of me is. And fuck me for not thinking that she might come into the bar.

I kiss people.

I like kissing people. I feel like it's a great way to connect without _connecting_. It's something that I've been doing forever. I can see why it might upset her but how the fuck am I supposed to know that she thought we were in a serious, monogamous relationship? Why the fuck didn't she tell me that shit?

* * *

I have a plan. A good fucking plan at that. I saw the name of the company that Bella works for on her Facebook before she blocked Andrew Lake.

"Finish your breakfast, Huck."

"Where are we going today?" he asks through a mouthful of cereal.

"We're gonna go visit Bella at work. She said she wants to talk to you about Harry Potter. She's been reading to catch up with you."

"Really?" he asks and his spoon drops unceremoniously splattering milk all over the table.

I throw a napkin at him. "Really."

He wipes the milk up and shovels another spoonful into his mouth. "What book is she up to?"

"I don't know. You'll have to ask her."

He nods and finishes the food in record breaking time. "Is Walt coming?"

"No. He's too big. I don't think they'd let him in the building."

I hand him his jacket and straighten his glasses out. "But Walt loves Issybella."

"That's okay. He'll see her later."

Finn nods and zips up his jacket and then bends down to put his sneakers on. "Daddy, I want sneakers like yours."

"We'll get you some after we see Bella, okay?" I put my hand on his head and lead him out of the apartment.

"Bye, Walt!" Finn calls through the door. He holds his hand up for me to take when we get outside. "Are we walking?"

"Yeah, it's close."

"Can I pick a flower for Issybella?"

"Yeah, dude."

Finn picks a daisy for her and we discuss how we're supposed to look both ways twice before crossing the street, and then we're walking into Bella's building.

"You leaving your hat on?" I ask him as we take the elevator up to the 13th floor.

"What do you think?"

"You look good, kid," I tell him.

"You too."

He pushes his glasses up when the elevator doors open and we both stop and stand right outside the doors. There are phones ringing off the hook and people everywhere talking on them. I've never been in one of these places before and I don't think I ever want to come back.

Finn wraps his arms around my leg and presses his face into my thigh. I put my hand on his shoulder. "Wanna come up here with me?"

"Until we get to Issybella," he whispers.

I lift him up onto my hip. "It's like a zoo in here," I whisper in his ear as I start walking. "Where do you think the monkeys are?"

He giggles and points at a random guy with bad clothes, a terrible haircut, and a creepy ass smile.

I laugh and nod. "Right on, man. Alright. Mission find Bella Swan. You ready?"

"Ready."

I walk up to the first person that's not on the phone and tap my fingers on his desk. "Is Bella Swan here?" I ask him.

His eyes narrow momentarily. "I think she's in the far back on the left."

"Thanks." Finn's arms wrap tightly around my neck. He's not a crowd kid at all. I follow the guy's directions and scan the people for the little girl with the brown hair and brown eyes.

Finally I see her standing by the window as if she's in jail and looking out at civilization. Not that I blame her. I'd jump out the window if it were me.

I walk up behind her and lean in just slightly to see what she sees. And it pretty much fucking floors me because my bar is right there. I didn't even realize that this was the same building. I'm sort of a dip shit like that.

"Looking for someone?" I ask.

She jumps and covers her heart with her hand. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Issybella! Daddy, I wanna give Issybella a hug."

Her eyes meet mine and they're hard and don't look happy at all but they soften when she looks at Finn and opens her arms. He slides into them and puts his hands on her cheeks before leaning in to kiss her directly on the lips.

"Hey, Finn, you came to see me," she says and she sounds a little shocked to see us here but she smiles down at him.

"I missed you. Oh! I picked you a present. Daddy, where is it?" I hand him the flower and watch as he hands it to her. Her eyes brighten as she accepts it. "Do you like it? I picked it from the dirt just for you."

"I love it," she says and kisses his cheek. "It's the best present I've ever gotten. How did you know what to get me?"

"Because it looked pretty and you're pretty, Issybella."

"Thank you, handsome." She sets him down in her chair and shows him a computer game to keep him occupied while we no doubt have a much less pleasant conversation.

When he's all distracted she turns to me with her hands on her hips. "You can't just show up where I work, Edward. Especially using your way too cute for his own good child as your wing man. You just can't."

"The kid wanted to see you, Bella. Who am I to say no?" I shrug at her. "Besides, I told you our conversation wasn't over. Not my fault you didn't want to finish it last night."

She rolls her eyes and looks around the room once before looking back at me. "And I told you that I wasn't talking to you. That was a cheap trick and you know it. If Finn wanted to see me, you just had to ask and I would have come to see him."

"I would've if I had your phone number. And you blocked me on Facebook so this was really our only option."

She looks down at the ground and takes a deep breath. "I just needed some time. Time to fix, to build, to just feel better. I wouldn't have stayed away forever."

"You should have said something," I tell her. "You wouldn't need time to feel better if you'd just get your shit off your chest." I lean in closer to her until our faces are only inches apart. "We never established anything serious between us. I get that what you saw hurt you but above all we're friends. And you should've fucking told me."

She takes a step back and away from me. "And said what? That I felt stupid for letting myself think something that wasn't true? For acting like a silly 12 year old girl with a crush? Because that sounds like something I wanted to say. Not embarrassing or anything." Her face turns bright red and her thumb goes to her mouth. "No. And no. You can't act like this was all friendly fun. You, you got off on my ass. You kissed and touched me. That's not just friends stuff. Don't try to make me feel stupid."

Her voice is a low hiss and her eyes are dark and angry and hurt.

"Obviously it's fucking more, Bella. Do you think I let everyone I kiss and touch into his life?" I ask her and point at Finn who's blissfully unaware of this conversation. "Do you think anyone has ever slept in my bed just because I like having her there besides you? I'm saying we haven't set up our boundaries. And I can't do that until you figure your shit out."

Just then the phone next to Finn rings and he jumps. "Issybella, can I answer it?"

"No, Huck," I answer for her.

Bella rubs the bridge of her nose and then lifts the phone from its cradle. I watch her, waiting and expecting her to ask them to hold. When that doesn't look like it's going to happen, I walk over to her and hover my finger over the hold button for her.

"Tell them to hold on," I tell her.

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head at me.

"Tell them to hold on," I repeat.

She tries to swat my hand away but I just bring it back. I lift my other hand and start the five second countdown. When I get to one she breathes out in frustration and asks the customer to hold.

"We can't do this here," she says. "You're right. I have no reason to be angry."

I nod and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "So we're good then?"

She sighs heavily and squeezes her eyes shut. "Yeah, of course. I mean, it was just a miscommunication."

"You're sure?" I ask because she doesn't look convinced.

She nods shakily at me and then looks over and smiles at Finn. "Friends, right? I just overreacted."

"We can be whatever we want to be but whatever that is, we're friends first. That's all I'm trying to say." Because we are. Because her friendship is important to me. And because if anything serious is going to happen between us, we need to have that platform of trust and comfort that we can only achieve by establishing our relationship as friends.

"Friends," she says softly, sounding out every letter.

I nod and search her face to make sure she's actually alright. She gives me a weak smile and picks the phone back up.

I exhale in frustration and pick up a notepad.

_This means I __better__ be seeing you if not tonight then tomorrow._

She rolls her eyes, takes the pad from me, and writes: _Maybe. We'll see._

"No," I say out loud. "I'll see you tonight or tomorrow. Don't make me come find you again because I'll bring Finn and Walter with me."

And with that I grab the kid, turn, and walk away.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N- t&a- there are NO words to express how completely blown away we are by all of you. THANK YOU so much for all the reviews, alerts, tweets, recs, ALL OF IT! **

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**As always we wish we created these two from scratch, the basic ingredients were copied from S. Meyers.**

_Honey, what reveals you_

_Is what you try and hide away_

_And you can tell the planets_

_Or your pillowcase_

_But I'm a wife in watercolors_

_I can wash away_

_What seventeen cold showers_

_Couldn't wash away_

_Save me save me save me from what I want_

_Save Me From What I Want- St. Vincent_

Six days. It took him six days to show back up, and even then he didn't even mention that night, that girl. His words were sweet, alluring, but they always are. His smiles tugged at my newly barricaded heart and even though I wanted to turn my back and tell him to leave me the hell alone, I couldn't. It's hard to say no to him, but then add in a small innocent version and there was no hope for me. There will be no further dwelling on what that could mean.

I tear through my closet looking for something Alice called a 'make him sweat' outfit. Nothing in here could possibly be defined as that. I turn back to my computer and hold up a skirt. I watch Alice's blurry image lean in close to the computer and she shakes her head.

"No. Please release me from this torture Bella. I have no clue what you should wear to seduce your stray. Just put something on that shows tits or ass and go with it," she sighs. It was pushing my luck asking Alice to do this for me. The video conference is not something I use often, but I'm feeling too bare, too unstable to do this alone.

"I don't even have tits Alice," I whine. She rolls her eyes and taps the screen. I follow the cue and lean in.

"You obviously have tits. Stop whining and just put something on. I have to try and not completely screw up a Crème Brule. So if you'll excuse me…." She presses. I sigh and lean my face down to smother it in my comforter. There isn't a need for me to keep her. Her pastries take precedent over my self imposed problem.

The consensus of the wall was for me to get over him. To leave him behind me and move on. It would be simple enough. Apart from the nearness of our work locations there's nothing else to connect us. We don't have the same friends, don't go to the same places. I could have easily cut him out of my life.

But then he showed up at my work, instead of listening to the rational part of my brain that demanded to know how he knew where I worked, I let the fluttery, giggly girl inside of me feel flattered and excited. I'm an idiot. At least the rational half kicked in and invited Mike. I wasn't going in there alone. What if he was… occupied again?

Time ceases to matter as I sink back into my futon and try to piece together how I let my story unravel this way. There's no longer a clear plot line, hell I don't even know which role I am currently playing. My head feels heavy and this whole night suddenly feels like a chore. Gone are the girly butterflies and anxiousness, in its place is a firm resolve to simply fulfill my promise. I told him I would come.

I reach into my closet and pull familiar, soft fabrics to me caring less about what he sees when he looks at me and more about how I am going to feel when I am back in that room. My eyes catch the clock and I drag myself to the door. Just get through this night, that's the only objective. No hoping for future sleepovers or story times.

* * *

I spot Mike almost a full block away. It doesn't hurt that he is waving wildly at me. I duck my head and remind myself that he is doing me a favor. He is sparing me from entering alone, from enduring this alone. Semi pleasant feelings towards him surface and I raise my head just in time to stop.

"I was wondering if you were going to stand me up," he teases. Most of the semi pleasant feelings melt away. I fight to keep them in place. He reaches out to me, but I sidestep his touch.

"I'm five minutes late. That's hardly a reason to feel slighted. The standard 'stood up' time is 15 minutes," I inform him. He gives me an awkward smile. The silence grows between us, taunting our mismatched meeting. The song inside the bar changes and I turn my head towards the door.

"Thanks for the information, I guess. Should we go in?" Mike asks. I don't fault him for wanting alcohol to numb the awkward we are currently harboring. I nod and take a deep breath before turning towards the door. My feet feel rooted to the ground, but Mike presses his hand to my back and I'm moving.

I squeeze my eyes shut as the door opens, afraid that it'll all be happening again, but when I open them everything is subtly different. The crowd is thinner, less exuberant. My eyes dart around the room, choosing to settle on anything other then where I know he should be. The navy wall takes a particular stare. It almost looks professional, if you don't notice the two silver thumbprints in the far right corner.

"You wanna sit at the bar or grab a table?" Mike asks. I tear my eyes from the wall and shrug. I've always sat at the bar, but I've always wanted an excuse to be closer to him. Now I'll let Mike make the decision for me. He heads towards a table and I sigh in relief. Maybe brining Mike was a good decision.

I give the wall one more glance before moving to follow. The music changes, the crowd shifts and I feel the pull nip at my heels. I try to shrug it off and then it hits me.

"B!"

His voice breaks on my back like a strong wave, pushing my feet forward. I'm almost to the table when his hand grabs my elbow. I clench my eyes shut for a moment and clench my jaw. This was going to happen. I came to him. I could hardly expect to not see him. I turn slowly and open my eyes in time to see him grinning down at me.

"Hey girl, weren't you going to say hello?" he asks. Before I can formulate an answer his lips are descending on mine. I turn my head at the last moment, offering my cheek instead. His lips are open and warm on my cheek and he pulls away quickly, his eyes full of question.

"I was just getting settled. I've never sat at a table and thought maybe it would give me a different view," I offer. He is still so close to me. I take a shaky breath and look over my shoulder at Mike. Edward's eyes follow mine and I can feel his body tense. I take several careful steps backwards.

"Who's your friend?" his voice is careful, lacking the teasing bite it usually carries. Mike stands at the table and grins. My feet make the space between Edward and I grow as I go to sit with Mike.

"You remember Mike? You met him at my office yesterday," I offer. My gaze ping pongs between them. Mike's face covered into a goofy grin and Edward, I can't read his face. He wipes his hand on his bar apron before extending it to Mike.

"Yeah of course. Nice to see you again man," Edward smiles. Any falter or crack in his exterior gone. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part.

"Likewise man. I love your place. I don't get to come in often enough, but maybe Bella and I can make a habit of it," Mike answers. Edward's jaw tightens and he smiles tightly. Not the natural, easy smile I'm used to.

"Yeah, thanks. Can I get you guys anything? First round is on the house," Edward offers. His eyes stay firmly on mine as he asks and I can't meet his gaze.

"Whatever you have on tap works for me," Mike chirps. My mouth feels dry and suddenly the short list of drinks I know leaves my mind. The plan was to be poised, unaffected and I am failing on all fronts. Edward leans down towards me and I suck in a breath filled with his scent.

"You want a La Bella B?" Edward asks. His mouth is next to my ear and I can't help the shiver that works its way down my spine. I simply nod and wait for the tingling to subside.

"So you and the bartender huh?" Mike asks. I raise my eyes to meet his and he's attempting a smirk. Except he almost looks constipated. I hope Mike gets written in as someone else's loveable dork in a future romantic comedy. Just not mine.

"No. We just, he's just, we're friends. Sometimes. Not all the time," I stutter my through it. Mike rolls his eyes and leans back in his stool. He must have forgotten it's not his desk chair because it teeters and almost tips. The laugh bursts from me before I can stop it. Mike flails his arms and grips the edge of the table to stabilize himself before throwing me a sheepish grin.

"That was smooth," he breathes. I laugh again and there is a crash behind the bar. I look over in time to see Edward's red face before he ducks below to clean up his mess. I tear my eyes away quickly.

"Friends, right," Mike mutters. I meet his gaze and I can see the questions forming behind his eyes.

"A house draft and a La Bella."

The voice breaks between us as the other bartender sets down our drinks. He grins at us before turning to leave. I stare down at my drink and feel slighted. I assumed he would bring our drinks over. Assumed.

Mike drags his mug towards him and takes a long pull. I follow suit hoping my nerves will back off with a little liquid encouragement. Everything gets a little easier to handle as my drink tapers off. Mike's jokes are funnier, the music is better, hell even the bar seems to glow.

"You want another?" Mike asks as he reaches for my empty glass. I nod enthusiastically. Things will only get better. I watch as he makes his way to the bar. He settles in front of Edward and I take the chance to watch him when he isn't watching me. His face is cold, rigid as he talks to Mike. He eyes shift down to his hands as he mixes my drink. I want to make him smile even it means me feeling uncomfortable.

Mike is headed back in my direction too soon. I should tear my eyes from Edward now that my decoy has returned but I can't. I watch as he makes his way down the bar, talking to each customer, offering a half assed smile to some. And then she approaches. I watch her focus zero in on him as she leans against the bar, forcing her outlandish tits up and out.

He glances up and meets her gaze, the first ghost of a smile playing on his lips. I watch as she leans even further across the bar to whisper in his ear and he lets her. His head bobs as she continues to move her lips against his ear. I can feel the twitch building in me. He turns his head and I wait for their lips to connect. Every movement in slow motion as the moment gets closer, just before I am sure their lips are going to connect he pulls back and reaches behind the bar.

I feel my body go slack in relief and hardly notice as my drink slips from between my fingers. The shattering of glass turns the whole bar's attention to me. My eyes focus on the disaster below me for a split second before I launch into action. I slide from my chair and begin to gather the large pieces in my hand.

"Don't," his voice hisses in my ear. The sound calls up the chill again and I clench my fists against it. The pain is secondary. I feel liquid pooling in my palm and I open my hand to look down at the mess I made. His hand is around mine instantly.

"What did you do B?" he whispers. I pull my hand away and stumble towards the bathroom, his voice and footsteps trailing me the whole way. I press on the door with my good hand and release the loose glass into the trashcan before making my way to the sink. I fight with the faucet and shove my hand under the stream of water, biting back tears as the pain finally rears its head.

His arms reach around me to cradle the injured hand. I tense against him and push him away from me.

"I'm fine Edward. I just need a band-aid and a new drink. I wouldn't want you to miss out on anything or anyone by being in here with me. Just go. I've got this," I state. I'm impressed with the steadiness of my voice. His arms pull away, but he stays behind me.

"What would I miss? A bunch of drunks looking for a refill? You're hurt. I can help. Finn would want you to have one of his band-aids. You want Spiderman or Sponge Bob?" he argues. Bringing up Finn makes everything worse. I shake my head and flex my hand, looking for any stray pieces of glass. Everything feels like skin and soft so I know I'm in the clear.

"There are people out there who want to see you, you know. Here for you. I'm fine really," I insist. I wait for his argument, but the only response I get is the slamming door behind him. I wait for a moment before I am sure that the worst of the bleeding has stopped before shutting off the water and gripping a paper towel in my hand.

When I get back to the table, all signs of my mess is gone and Mike is waiting with a fresh drink and a band-aid, Spiderman.

"Your friend over there says that you should stop with the alcohol and start with the pain meds, but he still brought you another," he explains. I keep my eyes away from the bar. I don't know what I would do if I saw another close call, much less….more.

"Yeah I think I'll be ok without the Advil. It's really not that bad," I answer. I struggle with the band-aid and take my drink in two long gulps. The warm burn brings a smile to my face and soon I'm relishing in the haze.

I try to focus on the clock, but it's moving on that wall. Mike is giggling like a twelve year-old girl and that is enough to keep me laughing as well.

"We need to leave," I announce. Several heads turn in my direction and I hold my hand over my mouth. I guess my volume has increased as the night has gone on. I reach my hand out to Mike hoping that in both our half-gone states we can count as a full balanced person. Just as I turn to lead us through the drunken seas I'm blocked.

"Where are you going?"

I roll my eyes at Edward and move to walk around him. He sidesteps to block my path once again and I sigh heavily before looking up at him.

"We're going home. We have work tomorrow," I answer. He glares down at Mike and I's joined hands. I swing them obnoxiously and wait for him to move. His eyes move to mine and they soften slightly.

"Stay," he offers. My face screws up at the thought.

"There's not room for all of us in your bed Edward," I argue. Mike snickers behind me and Edward shakes his head.

"Just you. Beaver Cleaver here can go home to his place. Alone," Edward clarifies. I laugh and push against his chest slightly hoping to be allowed to pass. He doesn't even sway.

"That'd be rude. We're gonna walk home like buddies. You always say I can't walk home alone, so this time I'm not," I announce proudly. Edward takes a deep breath before placing a hand on my shoulder, his touch runs down my arm til his hand grips my waist.

"He's a big boy I'm sure he can get home just fine. And enough of this 'we' shit B. He can go home and you can stay here with me," he presses. I roll my eyes again and move around him. There's no reason for me to stay.

"Thanks for the offer Edward. I really do like your bed, but I think Mike and I are just going to go. I'm sure, if you want, you can find someone else to cuddle with," I call behind me. Mike struggles to keep up as I hurry out of the bar.

I feel empowered as we hit the cool night air. I won't be one of his easy access selections on the shelf ready whenever he needs me. Not sure if that made sense. I giggle to myself and Mike pulls a little at my hand. I pull my hand from his grasp and wrap my arms around myself.

"So yours or mine?" Mike asks and I put extra space between us.

"Neither asshole. This is an buddy system only arrangement," a voice answers from behind us. I stop in my tracks and turn to face Edward. He looks pissed and I take some small satisfaction from it.

"What are you doing?" I hiss. He smiles at my emotion.

"Walking you home," He replies, stepping around me. I hurry my steps to catch up with him.

"Mike is walking me home. You're supposed to be pouring drinking and chasing them with kis…..nevermind," I stammer. He slows to walk next to me, throwing Mike a look. Mike seems unphased by our ongoing dialogue.

"There is no way in hell I am letting this groper masking as a puppy dog walk you home. Besides, I need the fresh air," he answers. I cross my arms even tighter around my chest and speed up my steps. I can hear the two of them following behind me.

He doesn't get to do this. He was reassigned to unrequited. He can't pop up as pseudo knight in shining converse. As we near my building I turn and face my trailing party.

"Ok well, I can see my door from here so you can both be on your way," I inform them. Mike steps forward and I step back.

"I had a really good time Bella," he says. I feel my brows raise. People actually say that?

"It was really nice of you to come with me Mike. I'll see you at work," I offer. He smiles and steps even closer. He begins to lean and I want to hide behind Edward. Instead I press against his shoulder, straightening him out.

"You're a nice guy Mike. I always appreciate friends I can have a good time with," I correct him. He nods and turns in what I hope is the direction of his place. When he seems to be safely deterred I look at Edward. His whole face is smirking. I roll my eyes and stalk towards my door.

"Don't hurry off yet B. My job is not done til I see you through your door," he calls. I stop and take a deep breath.

"Well then you are officially released from your duties. This is my building," I sigh. I fiddle with my keys and feel him behind me.

"I'm very thorough B. Your door. Not just the building," he breathes into my ear. The door chooses that moment to burst open and he holds my waist to stop me from meeting my good friend the concrete floor. I pull away from his grasp and turn to push at his shoulders.

"This is really far enough Edward. If you really need to you can stand down here and make sure no one follows me up," I compromise. He shakes his head and simply passes me to take the stairs. I follow slowly hoping against hope he will get lost on the straight shot. Not likely.

I trudge to my door, overly conscious of Edward on my heels, once my keys are in the door and I've opened it I turn to face him.

"Really, this is as far as you can expect to go. It was nice of you to do this, but it was not necessary. I mean Mike wasn't that drunk and I know they need you at the bar and I was fine," I ramble. He comes in closer and I know what's coming. I turn my head before he can even lean in. He shakes his head before placing his hands on either side of my face.

"Why do you keep doing that?" he asks. I bite my lip and try to avoid his eyes.

"Self preservation, germ prevention, you pick," I sigh. He chuckles.

"Germ Prevention? Should I be insulted?" he asks. I want to pull my face from his hands, hide it in my own hands. I keep my eyes down.

"I just don't want you to worry about germs, cooties, I don't know, the things girls have," I sigh. It makes no sense, but how else do I tell him that I don't want to be a flavor on his shelf? He moves one hand to push my hair behind my ear.

"I think I stopped worrying about cooties when I was Finn's age. You don't want me to worry about germs? Do you have any that I should be worried about?" he asks. I take a deep breath and shake my head slowly.

"No, but I don't kiss a lot of people. And definitely not at the same time. You're the only person's spit, I have, you know, in my mouth right now. Because it takes three months for someone else's saliva to leave your system and you're the only saliva in my system," I reply. I am painting myself as the pitiful heroine. I don't want that part.

"Well I haven't been craving anyone's saliva but yours," he smirks down at me. Suddenly my mind is flooded with the scenarios of people ordering saliva like soda. Not good imagery.

"Just one kiss Bella. You haven't kissed me in days," he pleads and for a brief moment I feel like he's given me all the power and I know that I won't deny him.

His head lowers slowly and I can't turn away from it this time.

I seal my lips together and refuse to budge as his lips brush over mine. The pressure increases, but for once things go right and my mouth stays closed. No tainted saliva for this mouth thank you. He pulls away slowly and looks down at me.

"Don't pull that head turn thing on me again girl. I always get what I want," he breathes. My mouth falls open and he dives in again, his tongue slipping into my mouth and I fight back the moan. He smiles with his eyes closed as he backs away.

His eyes snap open and he grins.

"I'll see you soon B. I'm not going to let you slip away," he states. I fall back into my studio and sink to the ground. That was not how I saw that going. I want to be angry with him, but my lips are still tingling. I might have to resign as the writer of my own story because I have no idea where this is going.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N t&a: guys, really, at this point it's totally redundant but we **_**seriously **_**cannot even begin to express our gratitude and love for all of you. thank you, thank you, thank you so so so much for reading, for reviewing, for reccing and for just being around. you're all seriously fucking awesome.**

**you know what we own, you know what we don't. no need to hash it out.**

_How did you think you could run away so soon?  
With your heart as heavy  
Heavy as the moon  
Yes, you told me you're sorry but it's hard to tell  
Yes, you told me you paid penance but  
To whom?  
_"This House of Cards" Jamie Mefford and Blue Light

I check my phone for the fifth time in thirteen minutes. It's been that long since I texted Bella. It shouldn't take her this long to answer a simple "What are you doing?" If there's one thing that pisses me off to no fucking end it's being ignored.

I send her another one telling her to come over and then start drumming my fingers on the counter. I send one more saying that I have a surprise for her and then wait.

Finally, four minutes later, she responds. "I'm busy but thanks."

Guilt is an interesting emotion. I don't think I was in the wrong necessarily but I hate knowing that I hurt her. And I especially hate feeling like I may have fucked our relationship up before it ever even went anywhere.

"Busy doing what at four on a Sunday?" I respond.

I also fucking hate it when Finn's at his mom's. I was okay with it—not much I can do—but then I got used to Bella being around when he wasn't and now I can't fucking stand being by myself like this. Bored and fucking nervous with nothing to do but sit here and dwell on my guilt.

My phone dings and I open it quickly. I snort in disbelief at her response. All it says is, "Washing my hair."

That's seriously what she said. As if she couldn't come up with a better excuse. "I have a shower here. I can wash it for you. Come over."

I refuse to take no as an answer especially when I know she's sitting at home on her computer, chewing on her thumb.

"That's okay. I think I can handle it. I'm sure you can find someone else to surprise," she responds.

For god's sake. She's not gonna let this shit go. On the bright side, her responses are coming more quickly.

"Are you still on that? Come on, B, come over. Or I can come get you."

"You can't just come over here and make me come. Washing my hair takes a long time."

"Wanna bet?" I respond. "I can make you come in soooooo many ways, baby love. You've got 20 minutes to get your ass over here."

"Give me 30," she responds.

"Done. I started the clock. Hurry up."

I laugh at myself, at the text, and at the image of her blushing and flustered as she reads it. Fucking Bella. There's just something so innocent and refreshing and entertaining about her. And the thing is, she's innocent but she's really not. I mean, the girl watches porn. She's very much in tune sexually she just needs to see what she's missing. If she weren't so nervous and embarrassed about being sexual it would be so much easier to get the ball rolling on this.

I get the ingredients for her surprise out and watch the clock. I have every intention of going out and finding her if she's late.

There's a knock on the door when she only has two minutes left. I stroll over to the door and swing it open. She looks irritated as all hell, her hair is wet, and her arms are crossed over her chest in a way that probably isn't supposed to turn me on but she's pushing her tits up and she's wearing one of those little tank tops that she seems to love so much.

"Hi," I say and pull her into the apartment. "Was there traffic?"

She crouches down, ignoring me for the moment, and let's Walt lap at her face. She murmurs to him, still ignoring me, and rubs his belly when he drops to the ground. "You know," she finally says slowly, "it's not nice to threaten people to get what you want."

"I do what I need to," I answer simply and lock the door.

She pushes up from her crouch and wipes her hands off on her little skirt. I put my hand on the back of her neck and smile down at her.

"I'm glad you came. I really do have a surprise for you," I say and lean in to cover her lips with mine—partly because she's biting the shit out of it but mostly because I just really fucking want to.

She turns her head at the last moment and my lips land on her cheek. I growl my disapproval. This shit is getting seriously fucking old.

"This better be some surprise. To cut into hair washing and all."

"Are you seriously still not kissing me?" I ask, ignoring her question, my frustration blatant.

She turns and walks away from me, trailing her fingers down the bar, and doesn't look at me. "Seriously. The surprise?"

Fine. We'll play it like that. Game on, baby.

"Come over here," I say from behind the bar. "Or are you not standing next to me either?"

She rolls her eyes and moves to stand next to me. Her eyes scan the stuff on the bar and she runs a finger over each of the bottles that I took out for her. "Where's Finn?" she asks.

"At his mom's," I tell her even though she knows the answer already. If the kid's not here he's at Savannah's. I get what she's trying to do. "So what's going on between you and that douche bag you brought into my bar?"

"You mean Mike?" she asks absently. "You saw him when you came to the office, didn't you? He works in the cubicle next to mine. Kind of handsy but nice."

"You let him put his hands on you?" I narrow my eyes at her but she's still not looking at me. The feeling in my chest at the thought of that dickhead's hands on hers rivals the previous one of guilt from before.

She chuckles but it's got more nerves than humor in it and then runs her hand down my back. "He didn't get Walt privileges. He's harmless. Why does it matter who puts their hands on me anyway?"

I clench my teeth together tightly and count to ten, annoyed that she's playing this game, disgusted at the image of anyone putting their grimy ass hands all over her, and especially pissed off at the picture of that dick touching her tits. "Do you want your surprise?" I ask, changing the subject entirely.

"Yes please. I mean, I did come all the way over here."

"I'm giving you the secret to La Bella," I tell her.

She smiles up at me—the first genuine smile she's given me in days—and bounces a little on the balls of her feet. "Yeah? I don't know how to make any drinks. Other than a Shirley Temple and I don't think that counts."

I move and stand directly behind her, sandwiching her body between mine and the bar. I move her hair off of her neck and lean in until my lips are right by her ear. I cover her hand with mine and then reach for the first bottle. We both uncap it and then pour it into the cup. "Half Stoli Razberi," I whisper directly into her ear. "For your sweetness."

Her breaths are getting shorter and shorter but she doesn't try to move. I press my lips to the space right below her ear and kiss her, darting my tongue out to taste her. I switch sides then, moving her hair back over to the other side, and grab the next bottle—her hand still in mine. "One quarter Peach Schnapps," I whisper into her ear and then lick her from her shoulder up to her ear. "Because you taste like peaches and I want to know if your pussy tastes like that too."

I rub myself against her and she whimpers slightly and pushes back against me. "And one last quarter of Triple Sec." I pour a drop if it on my finger first and then rub it against her lower lip. "Taste it," I whisper without moving my finger.

She darts her tongue out and I slip my finger into her mouth. And fuck me, she sucks on my finger. Only for a second but she actually does it. And my cock is so fucking hard pressed up against her like this.

"All it needs is a little bit of ice and maybe a splash of cranberry for color." I put my hands around her stomach and drop my lips to the space where her shoulder meets her neck.

I turn her around in my arms and press her back into the bar. She looks up at me through her liquid chocolate eyes, framed by her heavy dark lashes. "I want to kiss you, Bella." Her breathing, like mine, is coming faster and faster. "I need to. And I know you need it too."

She drops her chin to her chest and mumbles, "I don't know if I can."

I pull on her hair, tilting her face up to mine. "You can." I rub my lips against hers, not kissing just rubbing, holding back, asking to be let in. "You can," I repeat.

She shakes hers head until her hair falls in front of her face. "You won't mean it."

"Bella." I wrap one arm around her waist and use my free hand to push her hair back. "I've never wanted anyone so much."

She looks up at me then, eyes darting nervously between my eyes and my lips, and I figure I have to give it one more shot. I tighten my grip in her hair and press my lips to hers again, firm but soft, sucking, nipping, and then I flick my tongue out.

And then finally, fucking finally, her lips part and her tongue sneaks out and slides against mine, and heat just fucking explodes between us. I hold her head still and just kiss the shit out of her.

I love the way she tastes, sweet, spicy, and just fucking hot. Her fingers tangle around my hair and I groan against her mouth. I wrap my hands around her waist and lift her up onto the counter. I lift both hands to cup her face, stroking my thumbs across her cheeks, and devour her mouth the way I've been wanting to for the past week. I feel like I could kiss this girl for the next hundred years.

She wraps her arms around my back and pulls me closer. I settle my hips between her legs and my cock is so fucking hard as I press it against her. I rock my hips against her and then slide my hand up her stomach to cover her tit. I pull away from her mouth and press my lips to the spot on her neck that always makes her fucking squirm all over the place.

I pinch her nipple through her shirt and the little groans she makes in the back of her throat combined with the way she shudders against me makes me even harder. I love her sounds, the way she can't hold back her pleasure. They're almost enough to make me cum in my pants.

Her hands are all over me, rubbing up and down my back, over my ass, pulling me close until I can feel the heat of her pussy through her clothes and my own. Her nipple is so hard in my fingers and I want to suck it into my mouth so fucking badly. I want to hear her scream my name.

I've never fucking heard bells before just from kissing someone. I've heard like a dull roar and maybe fireworks once or twice but never bells. I wonder what fucking sound I'll hear when I finally get inside of her.

And then her hands stop stroking me and instead of pulling me closer, she starts pushing me away. I push more firmly against her. No fucking way can she stop this now, not when I'm so far gone.

I try to cover her mouth with mine again and growl in frustration when she pulls away and flattens her hands against my chest.

"Doorbell," she says, half gasp, half moan. "Someone's ringing the bell, Edward."

"They'll stop." I bury my fingers in her hair and tilt her head to the side so I can kiss her neck. She wiggles against me enough to make me pull back and look at her. "Do you _really _want me to answer the door right now?"

"What if it's Finn? Or someone with an emergency? Or a lost child?" she whispers, rambling through puffy lips without opening her eyes.

"Finn's not tall enough to reach the bell." I run my hands up and down her bare, smooth thighs. "And Savannah would call before bringing him here."

A tiny moan escapes her parted lips. "You should check… just to be sure."

"Fine." I hook my hands under her knees and tug until her ass is at the edge of the island. I press my lips to hers and then pull back. "Don't move."

I walk backwards towards the door just to make sure that she listens to me. When she finally opens her eyes, she blushes, takes her bottom lip between her teeth and dips her head. I chuckle because she's so fucking cute—one minute she's got her legs wrapped around my hips and grinding into me and the next she's all shy.

I rip the door open angrily because whoever this fucking idiot is that can't take a hint has now decided to alternate between ringing the bell and knocking. It's Emmett. Of course.

"I'm busy," I tell him shortly and move to slam the door shut in his face.

He slaps an open hand on it and tries to look into the apartment. "Who's here?"

"I have company. You're interrupting. Is this an emergency or can it wait?"

"I just wanted to tell Finn that I got tickets to the game next week."

"He's with Sav. I'll bring him by your place tomorrow."

He grins and puts his hands up in the air, backing away slowly. "Have a good night," he says with a suggestive wink and I slam the door shut before spinning around and walking back towards the kitchen.

"You didn't stay where I told you to stay." She's wandering around my kitchen going through cabinets and drawers.

She jumps and moves quickly to the center of the room. "I wasn't sure how long you were going to be. You have a lot of stuff for someone who doesn't cook."

"I never said I don't cook." I take a few steps towards her but she moves further away. "Savannah would cut my balls off if I only gave the kid junk food."

She chuckles and looks down as she shuffles her feet. "That's Finn's mom? Savannah?" she asks and bites down on her lip.

I nod slowly. "I've told you that, haven't I?"

She looks up at me through her big, sweet brown eyes and it's obvious that she's full of questions. "I think so. It's hard to remember. I think you had your tongue in my mouth at the time and then you distracted me. You two are friends, then?"

"I like having my tongue in your mouth," I say and laugh when she blushes. "But yes, Sav and I are friends." I lean against the counter behind me and cross my arms. "Do you want to continue this conversation on the couch or do you like standing?"

She swallows hard. "Are we actually going to have this conversation?" She wrings her hands together. "It's just that… you usually avoid it and I do have questions, but I don't want to pry. But if you're willing, the couch please."

I feel bad that she looks so unsure about asking me some simple fucking questions. I don't want her to be unsure or nervous around me. I take her hand and lead her into the living room. When I sit down, I pull her onto my lap. "You can ask me whatever you want."

She nods and takes a breath before shifting slightly and meeting my eyes. "Were you and Finn's mom ever more than friends? I mean, were you in love?"

I play with the ends of her hair and then run my fingers up and down her back trying to ease some of her tension. "Savannah and I were…" I hum and try to think of the right word to use. "It was a really volatile relationship. We're great as friends and I do love her, but I was never _in _love with her."

She lifts her hand and starts chewing on her thumb a little bit. "And Finn was a surprise? But you didn't stay together?"

I wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug her hand from her mouth. "If I thought Finn would've been better off if we stayed together, I would've married her. But we clash. A lot. Raising a kid in a house that's a warzone half the fucking time isn't fair."

"That makes sense," she says with a slow nod. "Sometimes people aren't meant to get together. But that doesn't mean the kids should suffer. So now you guys just make it work? No hard feelings?"

"No hard feelings." I rub her thigh again because I just can't stop touching this girl. "We're really good friends."

"Finn's really lucky then. Not many people can say their parents are friends."

I slide my hand into her hair and rub small circles on her scalp. "Are yours not?"

She shrugs. "My parents live separate lives and that works for them. They never do anything together. I would hardly say they're friends. But they love me, so I can't really complain, right?" She sighs and I use my free arm to tug her closer to me. "What about your parents?"

I drop my forehead to her shoulder and take a deep breath. I wasn't prepared to share this today but I'm expecting honesty from her so I can't hold back either. "My parents died in a car accident when I was eleven." It's still like ripping a band-aid off—saying it out loud that is. The faster the better.

Bella lets out a shuddering sigh and then spins so that she's facing me, straddling my lap. Her hands go to my face and she presses her forehead to mine. "I know the polite thing is to say I'm sorry," she whispers, "but I feel like that's cliché and I don't want to be cliché. But that sucks. It sucks ass."

I smile softly at her and rub my nose against hers. "It sucked a lot of ass."

"And then? What happened then?" She brushes her lips over mine and then wraps her arms around me.

I put mine around her waist and press my face into her neck. "I was angry. I mean, really fucking angry. I was a total fucking terror to be around. Nobody wanted me. And then two years later, I was adopted by a woman with the biggest bleeding heart in the world and her husband who couldn't deny her anything." I smile into her neck at the thought of Carlisle and Esme.

She slides her hands up the back of my shirt and starts to scratch my back. I sigh as goose bumps race up and down my skin. "I bet she's amazing. And I bet she adores you and lets you eat processed food."

I laugh and pull back so I can press a kiss to her lips. "Actually, Carlisle is obsessed with fast food. He'd sneak me out of the house in the middle of the night for burgers and shit because Esme wasn't about it at all."

She rests her head on my shoulder and sighs wistfully. "That sounds amazing."

I just hug her to me. Having her here, wrapped in my arms, pressed so intimately against my body while I tell her all of my secrets, feels right. It feels okay. I'd never told anyone about that but telling Bella just felt good.

"I like your story though. It has a solid plot line and little happy endings."

She always talks about these random, mysterious stories with so much sadness in her voice. "I got lucky," I say with a nod. "I got really lucky."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N- t&a- SO sorry this update is late. I know we've been good about the regular updates and we will again, but the holiday weekend got in the way. Forgive us?**

**Your reviews, recs and general LOVE continue to make us giddy. Thank you for every review. We read, share and savor. **

**As always, we were not lucky enough to have Bella and Edward come to us in a dream, but if we did they would definitely have a little ink ;)**

_No one likes to take a test_

_Sometimes you know more is less_

_Put your weight against the door_

_Kick drum on the basement floor_

_Stranded in a fog of words_

_Loved him like a winter bird_

_On my head the water pours_

_Gulf stream through the open door_

_Fly away_

_Fly away to what you want to make_

_I feel it all, I feel it all_

_I feel it all- Feist_

I know that they say that you shouldn't eat when you're upset. Does this apply to pouting, moping? Hopefully, the answer is no. The word is restraint. That's the goal, the purpose of me buying ingredients to bake enough cupcakes to feed a small school.

I was at that point. I had talked myself into taking a risk, detouring from my rut and then, he turned my world sideways. There are too many sources that say I should have forgiven and forgotten. We were only friends, at best. Friends who kissed, friends who read bedtime stories complete with ridiculous voices, that was it. So it should have been easy for me to put it behind me. There was no reason for me to feel slighted, wronged. And yet I do.

He's trying. Obviously he wants to return to where we were. I don't know if its possible, if I can talk myself back into the illogical place I was. Because damn it, I want it to mean more. I want to be the only one he tastes, the only one his son curls up to. And hence the cupcakes.

The grocery cart whines as I push it to the check out. I avoid the judging eyes of the checker as I pile sugar and flour onto the conveyor belt. The plan is to bake away my bitterness. To shove it all into something sweet so I can move on from this feeling, even if I don't want to.

My phone chirps from my pocket and I reach for it, ignoring the annoyed eye roll of the judgmental checker.

"i miss your face…u home?"

This is my problem. He can't say things like that. Dialogue like that, lines like that aren't exchanged between friends. And I can't pretend that the way I feel for him can be categorized as 'friends'. I sigh and type back that I'm grocery shopping. I shove my phone back in my pocket and swipe my card so the checker will stop giving me the stink eye.

And yet, there has to be something said for the fact that he finally gave me his story. After a lot of avoidance and using his tongue to distraction, I finally got to see more of him. The parts that maybe he doesn't show everyone. And I felt it. Felt his words and emotions bind me to him, even if it was just a bit.

The bags are heavy and when my phone chirps again I balance all of them on one arm, cutting off part of my circulation and reach for the phone.

"for the rest of the night?"

A sigh breaks past my lips and I slide all the bags to the grass before revealing to him my conquest to cure the world through cupcakes and let him know I'll be home soon. This is one of those times I wish I had somewhere exciting to be so I wouldn't be available for him to spin his confusion around.

It takes me several minutes to restore balance to my groceries and I trudge home ignoring the last chirp. The cupcakes are essential, needed sooner than later. I may have successfully ruined pumpkin pancakes, but I never fail with my cupcakes. It was the one thing my mother taught me to cook that stuck with me.

I shove my door open with my hip and lose myself in the kitchen, my mind blissfully distracted by measuring cups and mixing bowls. When someone pounds on my door I lose a cup of flour to the floor. I stare down at the scattered white and take a second to mourn its loss. My baking euphoria slips away as the pounding on the door resumes. I wipe my hands on my apron and twist towards the door.

The door isn't wide enough for me to fully see who is on the other side before a tiny head of copper pushes through the space. I stare down at Finn and step back to allow his father to follow. I can't even look up before Finn is bouncing around.

"Issybella, Daddy says that you're makin' cupcakes. _And_ he says that 'cause you made pancakes without me, you would let me stir and lick the spoon! Would you, Issybella?" he pleads. I can't help but smirk as he looks up at me. I nod once before he squeals and barrels past me to the kitchen.

"It's not nice to ignore people's texts, B," Edward states. I finally turn my gaze on him and then wish I hadn't. The smirk is in full force, but his face is tense. I bring my thumb to my mouth and chew on my nail.

"I thought I answered all your texts. You asked where I was, when I would be home. I answered," I argue. He reaches forward and slowly pulls my phone from my back pocket before flipping it around to show me the screen. I read the alert and roll my eyes. My inner Betty Crocker took over and I missed his text.

"Oh," I breathe. He nods and tosses my phone on the futon. He leans in slowly, placing a hand on my chin. I clench my teeth closed, but a crash from the kitchen saves me.

"I think I made an uh-oh," Finn calls. I break away from Edward and turn into the kitchen. Flour hangs in the air like fog and Finn stands in the middle of it, lip quivering. I smile sadly before making my way to him.

"Not an uh-oh. You're supposed to make a mess when you bake. See that pile right there?" I point to my earlier spill and Finn's glassy eyes follow my finger. He nods slowly before looking back at me.

"That was my uh-oh. It's not a big deal," I assure him. He nods before taking a couple of shaky breaths. I want to pull him to me but resist. Instead, I drag the lone chair from my table and pull it next to the counter. I don't have to tell Finn to climb on.

"The best part about cupcakes is making them," I tell him. He nods seriously and watches stoically as I continue to add ingredients to the mixing bowl. I fill the measuring cup with flour before handing it off to him. His little hand shakes in concentration as he dumps into the bowl and he beams at me with pride after.

"Bella," Edward's voice breaks into our little bubble. I shake my head and look towards the main room. I can't see anything but the bottoms of his shoes as he reclines on the futon.

"Yeah," I call back. I turn my attention back to Finn, who is about to dump an entire bottle of vanilla into the bowl. There is a long list of reasons to enjoy this small person. At the top of it, in this moment, is that he is taking my mind off his father.

"You know your file on here called 'goodies'," he answers. My stomach falls to my shoes. Shit no. I take a couple of breaths and refuse to react. I should have known he was being too quiet. Should have thought to hide my computer. My body tenses as I help Finn stir.

"B, you didn't tell me you had such an extensive collection," Edward adds. I groan softly and shut my eyes. This is why people keep their 'stashes' under their bed and in hidden places. So nosey people like Edward Cullen don't stumble upon them. I straighten my back and resolve. I'm not going to be ashamed of this. Lots of people watch… those movies. It's a billion dollar industry.

"Next time we watch a movie, I'm picking from yours," he chuckles. I roll my eyes and focus back in on Finn and the cupcakes. Finn sticks a tiny piece of his tongue out as he focuses on stirring. How can this tiny, amazing person be a product of the over-grown boy in the next room?

"That's not really something I watch with anyone," I call back.

"Issybella, what color cupcakes are these?" Finn whispers. I smile at his tone. I look down at the brown batter and know that wasn't what he meant. I reach behind me to pull a spoon out before dipping it in the batter and offering it to him. His eyes grow wide.

"It's more enjoyable in the right company," Edward adds. I had forgotten about the snooping perv in the next room. Finn sucks happily at the spoon as I take over stirring.

"I really wouldn't know. Come in here and help us cook. Don't look at that stuff," I plead. I wait to hear any kind of movement, but know I won't be that lucky.

"It's chocolate," Finn states reverently, finally pulling the spoon from his mouth. I smile and nod before he hands it back, eager for more. I dip it into the batter again and pass it back. I am not above buying this child's love through sugar. I lift him off the chair and pull the pans from the cupboard.

"We're going to have to cook some of them, Finn," I tease and he nods solemnly.

"Can I help put them in the wrappers?" he asks. I smile and assure him he can.

"What's your favorite position?" Edward interrupts again. I drop one of the half greased pans at his words before frantically picking it back up. Finn laughs.

"Another uh-oh," he states.

"Um, they all look interesting. Seriously, Edward, just come in here," I call. Again, no hint of movement. Suddenly I am cursing the invention of the Internet and the ability to save files on computers.

"Have you tried any of them?" This will not end. He will not allow this to pass. I try to occupy my mind with the three year-old currently filling the muffin tins to calm my embarrassment.

"Like with another person? No. Not considering… well, let's just say no," I answer dejectedly. I'm not sure even cupcakes are going to be able to recover this day. I guide Finn's hand with my own and take every ounce of goodness I feel from his smiles to counteract the discomfort.

"Not considering what?" I clench my jaw and place a little cupcake batter on the end of Finn's nose. He almost crosses his eyes trying to get a look at it. I laugh a little. His tongue tries to reach the chocolate and I cave and dip the spoon in again.

"Well all of those… positions… require… well, full penetration? So yeah. No," I relent. Talking porn in child friendly terms is hard and this is all making my head hurt. I hear something hit the ground hard in the main room followed by a string of non-child friendly curses. Luckily, said child is in a slight chocolate haze.

"Wait. Are you saying you're a virgin?" The question is heavy, his voice is hoarse.

"What's a virgin?" The child chooses now to slip out of his sugar high. I sigh and chew on my lip a little.

"It's the oil we use in cupcakes," I tell him seriously. He nods, appeased, and pops the nearly clean spoon back in his mouth. Damn Edward and his broken verbal filter. I pick and pluck the words to use from my mind carefully.

"Well there was an unfortunate event with a bike crash when I was 11, so technically, you know, that's not completely true. But as far as the boy-plus-girl bit... Yeah," I reply. My pride is broken. I'm baking with a three year old while revealing to his father my lack of sexual experience.

I slide the cupcakes into the oven and hand Finn the nearly empty bowl. His eyes grow wide as he cradles it in his lap. I finally hear the rustling on the bed that I've been waiting for, but now I wish he would stay put. Edward appears in the doorway, leaning his weight against it.

"Well, I doubt the bike gave you an orgasm. Girl, you've never had an orgasm?" he breathes. My face is on fire and I turn it away from him. This is not a conversation I want to have with a man that I—who could possibly—hell, with anyone. Much less with a child in the room. I turn my eyes on him, feeling anger now, rather than embarrassment.

"I didn't say that. You said 'virgin'. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," I hiss at him. I'm grateful that Finn hasn't asked what an orgasm is. I don't know if I can write that off as a baking ingredient. He swallows thickly and I glance back at Finn, who is now trying to build a sky scrapper with my pots.

"Toys or fingers?" he breathes and I feel my body flush. I glance down at Finn and see him perk up at the mention of toys.

"You have toys?" he asks excitedly. I glance around the kitchen and hand him a figurine of a dog my mother sent me as a housewarming gift. I keep my eyes on the counter.

"Either. Or both. It just depends. Let's not talk about this," I whisper. I want to be the kind of character strong enough to fire Edward's questions back at him, but I don't want to feel slighted by his experience. The energy in the room is thick and hot and I want to break out of it.

"How many fingers?" he presses. He moves to sit next to Finn on the floor, like we're talking about sports teams or music. The little boy grins up at his father, his face coated in chocolate. Edward stretches out his t-shirt and cleans his face off, not caring about the stain. These are the two parts I can't merge.

"Uhh, one, I mean that does the job so…" I'm hoping my candor will speed this conversation along. There's enough history between us for me to know that avoiding his questions won't help anything, and will just make him more persistent. I turn and lean against the counter facing him full on, ready to show him all my embarrassment.

His face is stoic and his mouth falls open as he holds up a solitary finger for me to see. His brows furrow in question and I sigh and nod my answer.

"Not every one has the same appetite," I defend weakly. His eyes fall from mine and he shakes his head slowly. At least he's not laughing. My fragile ego couldn't take his chuckles right now. He finally lifts his eyes to mine and they're hooded, heated.

"You have no idea what you're missing, baby girl," he breathes and I swear I can feel his heat from across the small space. I swallow and turn to wipe at the flour coated counter tops. Finn's tower crashes to the ground, causing me to jump and both boys to laugh. The tension cracks a little, but remains heavy in the air.

"That would be the definition of 'virgin'. Not knowing," I state. Little by little, my anger surges forward, fueled by my pride. I sink to the floor next to Finn, offering my construction assistance in his next attempt. Our fingers meet and rub in our joint efforts. Finn sits on his knees between us, oblivious to anything other than chocolate and towers.

"Well, if you want some assistance in that department, I'm ready and more than willing," he smirks. And there's the chuckle I knew was waiting under the surface. Suddenly, I'm picturing him and all the faceless women that he's helped in that way. I slide away quickly, grateful for the beeping timer on the oven.

"I don't want some one to 'assist' me with it. I could have gotten a quick fix plenty of times. That wasn't, isn't, the issue," I mutter, more for myself than anything else. This was never about someone being willing. I went to college, was dragged to my share of parties. There were willing men.

I reach into the oven and I can feel him standing behind me. I turn and maneuver around him, unwilling to think of his other girls, of anyone else seeing him like I do.

He follows my movement and stays behind me.

"I'd be more than a quick fix, Bella. We both know that," he breathes into my hair. I can't fight the shiver that works its way down my spine. Do I know that? Because I'm pretty sure I don't. I'm pretty sure I have no clue what he does when I'm not around. _Who_ he does when I'm not around.

"I want more from it than just pleasure. I can get pleasure from my 'toys and fingers'. It's going to mean something to me," I argue. I want him to tell me he can't give me that. Help me move on from my fixation.

I don't realize how stiff I am until he pulls me back into him. I'm tense and rigid against his warmth. He tugs and pulls until my body sags against his. I feel tears prick at my eyes because I know I've lost this fight. I'm not going to be able to deny myself him, even if it would be an act of self-preservation.

"It'd definitely be a lot of pleasure, but it'd be more than that. What are you getting upset about?" he asks. His breath is hot on the top of my head and I choke a little of the tears that I will not allow to fall. I can't answer that question. It's damning.

"It's just a mess in my head. Something I have to work out on my own," I insist, trying to break from his hold. He hangs on, unwilling to release me. I sag against him again and tilt my head to lean against his chest. I'm at war with myself. My head and heart and body are at odds and it's exhausting.

He turns my body and gazes down at me. His arms leave my torso so he can wipe his thumbs under my eyes and catch the moisture there. I turn my head away, unwilling for him to see this moment.

"I don't mean to make you cry and I keep doing it. It's not a big deal, you know. I was just surprised," he assures me and even that makes me angry. He leans down and takes my ear lobe into his mouth, sucking lightly. I tilt my head, giving him better access.

"It's not every day I hear about a virgin that's into porn. It's actually kind of sexy," he whispers. The heat spreads through my whole body and I jump when Finn's latest creation falls to the ground. Edward turns and I break away, anxious to regain thought and sanity.

"You okay, Huck?" he asks, crouching down next to his son. Finn crawls willingly into the arms I had occupied so recently and I feel my anger ebb. Edward lifts him effortlessly from the ground. They stand before me and my heart twists a little.

I reach forward and run my hand slowly and carefully through Finn's hair. It's so soft and the small boy grins at me.

"Thank you for all your help, Finn. I couldn't have made the cupcakes without you," I tell him and it's true. He gave me sanity when his father was robbing me of it. Finn's tiny fingers clutch at Edward's white t-shirt, dragging it down and revealing a line of red on his chest. I lean forward subconsciously, trying to get a better look.

I've seen the blueprint of his back, but his chest remains a small mystery, hidden from me by darkened rooms and t-shirts. Edward reaches up with his free arm and pulls his shirt down lower, showing me the lopsided, uneven inked heart over his own heart.

"Oh," I gasp. It's an odd choice, but I can tell from the heaviness in Edward's eyes that it isn't without meaning. I beg him for the story with my eyes.

"The kid drew the heart on my Father's Day card," he states. I look from him to Finn, who is now tracing the ink with his small fingers. The emotion surges up and my eyes well up again. I reach forward and follow Finn's action and we stand there, me and his son with our fingers over his heart.

"It's the best one yet," I sigh. I can feel his heartbeat beneath my fingers and the whole day suddenly weighs in on me, heavy and full of too much meaning.

"I'm pretty partial to it myself," Edward agrees. I break away and place a couple of the cupcakes in a Tupperware box before shoving it into Edward's free hand. I bring my thumbnail back to my mouth and wonder about getting a piece of my story on my own skin. What would I want it to read?

"I let him eat too much batter, but I want you guys to take these home. Eat them later, okay Finn?" I instruct. The toddler nods his heavy head before burying his face in his father's neck. I place my hand on his warm back and try to fight the attachment I feel for him. It's supposed to stay light, no strings and yet, all I feel here is strings, like a fucking puppet.

"You want to come back with us?" Edward asks. It isn't an issue of want. Of course, I want to. I want to be near him, them, and the warmth they radiate.

"I don't know," I sigh. Because I don't. My convictions aren't enough to muster up a viable excuse. He shifts the cupcakes to the crook of his arm and reaches around, fusing his hand into my hair. He pulls me closer to them and I fall forward willingly.

"It's simple enough. Yes or no," he insists. I take a deep breath and let myself get lost in him for a moment. He's asking about right now, but this will mean more than that. The battle of wills is about to come to an end.

"You want me to?" I ask, because I need some kind of commitment from him, no matter how small. It would tip the scales, give me the excuse I need.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't," he answers simply and I sigh. I pull slowly away from his grasp and his face twists in disbelief. I reach behind me to untie the apron.

"Yeah, I'll come with you," I breathe. And just like that, I've submitted to the part of me that doesn't adhere to logic or warning. I've opened myself up to the unrelenting chant of 'I told you so', should this all crumble around me. I don't bother with my laptop, not wanting to know what the faces on the wall think of my decision. For once this is about me writing my own story, without narration.

"Good, that's good. Don't think I haven't realized that you haven't kissed me. We're fixing that when we get home," he states. Something swells up inside of me at the word home and it pushes me forward on my toes and presses my lips to his soundly. If this is what I'm going to do, then I am going to do it completely.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N t&a: really- we say this a lot- but thank you, thank you, **_**thank you**_**. the love you're all sending our way about this story is seriously mind blowing. just… you're all amazing.**

**so, the fan fiction rebels interviewed us here: http:/ fanfictionrebels. blogspot. com/?zx=e94b5cc17dbefcc4. check it outt :D**

**lastly, we don't own but if we did, well, the movie would be rated M.**

_You gotta find some love  
There's a whole lotta love to be got  
You're my flower child  
And I'm your forget-me-not.  
_"Flower Child" Lee Dewyze

"Finnigan," Emmett says with a shake of his head. "Bro, you have to pay attention. This is a _baseball _game. Not a Chinese buffet."

I roll my eyes at him and look down at my kid. Like this, amongst adults in chairs made for adults, I remember how tiny he is. His legs are crossed up on his chair, he's got Emmett's hat on a backward diagonal that's way too fucking big for his head and he's got my old mitt on. His free hand is shoving his third hotdog into his mouth.

I put my hand on top of his head and he looks up to blink at me from behind his glasses. "Don't listen to Uncle Emmett. He just likes all of the food for himself."

"Next time," he says after he swallows his bite, "can we bwing Issybella?"

I laugh loudly when Emmett chokes on his beer. "Next time you can invite whoever you want, Huck," I tell him.

"Uh, no. First of all," Emmett says and points his finger at Finn, "not cool. Second of all, why am I the only person that hasn't met Bella yet?"

"Issybella is my best fwend," Finn says conversationally.

"That's strike two," Emmett says to him. "Because _I'm _your best fwend. Stop saying insulting shit, Finnigan. You're starting to hurt my feelings."

"Don't curse at the kid." I lean down and take a bite from Finn's hotdog and then smear the ketchup I get on my cheek onto his.

Finn giggles, wipes his face with his hand and then pats Emmett's leg with it. Emmett groans. I can't help laughing. "You can still be my best fwend too, Uncle Emmett."

"Yo, kid, I'm going to the bathroom. Do you need to go?" I ask Finn. He shakes his head and takes a big gulp from his soda. He's gonna be so fucking wired tonight. "Positive?"

He nods. "I don't wanna miss the game."

I shrug. "Suit yourself." I stand up and put my hand on Finn's head. "Emm, make sure the kid doesn't chase the popcorn guy across the stadium. I won't be long. And don't give him beer."

Emmett gives me an exaggerated insulted look. I laugh and turn to walk up the stairs. We take Finn to games and shit because Emmett works for a sports agency and gets free tickets and thinks Finn needs to be exposed to manly things. I don't know, I don't question him. I like the free games and Finn has fun.

I lean against the wall on the line for the bathroom. There are about ten guys in front of me so I pull my phone from my pocket. I smile when I see that there's a text there from Bella.

It's really so fucking weird to me that I've gotten so dependent on being in contact with her daily. Mostly it's weird because I've never been that type of person. Even in my past serious relationships I've never really been into the whole constant contact thing. But I like knowing that she's thinking about me, that she's alright. And I really like falling asleep and waking up next to her. A lot.

I open her text: _**I'm watching the game, where are you sitting? I want to see Finn. —B **_

The smile that I feel on my face is seriously emasculating. Only a total bitch would smile because this girl who I'm sure has never watched a baseball game before is sitting at home watching one by herself because I'm here with my kid.

_**We're sitting behind third plate. That's the one right before home ;) —E**_

I smirk down at the screen and shift closer to the bathroom. I love fucking with her. My phone vibrates. She wrote: _**Ok, I'm watching on mute but I promised Finn I'd watch for him. Having fun? —B **_

_**Would be more fun if you were here. Come over later? —E**_

When I get back to my seat, Emmett and Finn are having a popcorn eating contest. As in Emmett is shoving fistfuls of popcorn into his mouth while simultaneously trying to distract Finn by knocking his hand aside every time he goes for more. Finn is laughing hysterically and so are the people in the seats around us.

I shake my head and sit down before pulling Finn into my lap. I press my face into his neck and blow a raspberry which only makes him laugh more. "You gonna get sick on me tonight, kid?" I ask as he settles back against me.

"Why would I get sick?" he asks looking up at me.

"Remember when we made that mac and cheese?" He nods. "And we went to the supermarket for cookie dough before we ate it?"

"And Walt ate it all!" he says with a giggle.

"Yeah, dude." I grin down at him. "Walt ate it all and then he threw up."

"But Uncle Emmett eats all of the food and doesn't throw up," he points out.

"Not everyone can be like me, Finnigan," Emmett says and shoves another handful of popcorn in his mouth.

I dip my head so that my lips are right by Finn's ear and whisper, "You don't wanna be like him, Huck."

He laughs again but it gets cut off by loud cheering. I stand up quickly with my hands under his arms and hold him up high. He looks down with a huge grin on his face. "Home run!" He high-fives Emmett and then throws his fists into the air.

When we sit back down, I plop him into his seat and pull my phone from my pocket. "Bella's watching the game so that she can see you," I tell Finn.

He smiles hugely at me and pushes up his glasses. "Uncle Emmett wants to meet Bella."

I hum in response and open my phone because she responded to my text earlier. _**If you want me to, I guess I can. I don't want to intrude on boy time. —B **_

_**I want you to. We should be home by 8. —E **_

"Bella's coming over later," I tell them. "Emmett can meet her then."

x*x

On our way out of the stadium, I've got Finn's hand in mine. He's in the middle of a serious discussion with Emmett about why chocolate ice cream is better than strawberry. I've tuned out. I'm really anxious to get home. I want to see Bella.

"Daddy, look." Finn rips his hand from mine and runs through the crowd of people and my heart totally fucking stops when he disappears from my sight.

Emmett turns quickly and starts following him and I keep my eyes on Emmett, heart pounding in my ears.

He stops in an ally and I let out a huge sigh of relief when I see Finn crouched down next to a huge dog. "Finn." I reach down for his arm and pull him to his feet. "Don't ever do that again."

"I didn't do anything," he says, bottom lip protruding and eyes huge behind his glasses. "Daddy, look at him."

"Finn," I say sternly. "Listen to me. _Never _walk away from me like that again. Do you understand?"

His eyes water and I feel bad but fuck, he scared the shit out of me. "I sorry, daddy," he says, lip trembling. "But he needs help."

I follow the direction of his pointed finger and look down at the behemoth dog curled up on the floor. He's dirty, his fur is matted and it doesn't look like he can get up. "Who's he?" I ask Finn in a softer voice and crouch down next to him.

"His name is Nemo," Finn says.

Emmett clears his throat. "Yo, Ed, I'm gonna go pick up the car, aright?"

I nod and press a hand to the dog's side. "Hey, big guy," I say softly and he whimpers.

"Daddy, can we take him home?" Finn asks and presses his body and the right side of his face to this dog's filthy ass fur.

I pull him off of the dog and into my side. "He needs a bath, Huck."

"We can give him a bath like we give Walt a bath."

The dog's eyes are big and brown and so fucking sad—they're breaking my heart. I rub his ear and he whimpers again and closes his eye. He's obviously really fucking hurt. "How'd you get over here?" I ask the dog.

"Daddy, why doesn't he have a home?" Finn asks.

I shake my head. "I don't know, kid, but we're gonna give him one."

"We're gonna take him home?" Finn asks with a huge smile. "Really?"

"Really." Thank god Emmett went to get the car because nobody is going to be able to carry this dog more than five feet. "What'd you say his name was?"

"Nemo!" Finn crouches down in front of his face and kisses his muzzle. "Nemo, you're coming home with us. No more street. And you get to meet Walt! Daddy, Walt and Nemo are gonna be best fwends like me and Issybella."

**x*x**

"Seriously?" Emmett grunts as we climb the stairs to my apartment. "Why did I get stuck carrying this fucking bear?"

"Stop cursing in front of the kid."

"We're almost there," Finn tells him.

When we get to the door, I unlock it and we walk into the apartment. Bella's sitting on the couch on her computer and looks up at us. I give her a quick smile.

"Put him on the couch," Finn tells Emmett. "Hi, Bella! Look at our new puppy! He's gonna be Walt's best fwend like you're mine."

Emmett puts the dog down on the couch opposite Bella and then plants his hands on his waist. "What did I tell you about that, Finnigan?"

Finn climbs up onto Bella's lap and says, "Uncle Emmett is my best fwend too."

She looks nervously between me, Emmett and Nemo before looking back down at Finn. "You got a dog at the game? I didn't know they had real dogs, just hot dogs," she says to Finn and then tickles him before leaning back into the couch and wrapping her arms around the kid.

"We found him in the stweet," Finn says and rests his cheek against her chest and, well, I really wish I was him right now. "He didn't have a home and his leg is hurt."

I lean over and press a kiss to the top of her head. "Oh, look!" Finn says and scrambles off of Bella's lap. "Walt is meeting Nemo." He walks over to Walt and puts his hand on his head. "Walt, this is Nemo," Finn tells him. "You have to be nice to him because he has a boo-boo."

"Huck, go put your pajamas on," I say and sit down on the couch next to Bella. "B, this is Emmett. Emmett, Bella."

"It's a pleasure to finally fucking meet you," Emmett says and pulls her off the couch into a dramatic hug dip.

She stumbles a little bit and I feel bad for subjecting her to him right now. He's such an overwhelming person—especially for someone as shy as Bella is. She takes a step back and holds him at arms length. "Nice to meet you. I didn't know you were waiting to meet me. Edward didn't say anything like that," she rambles nervously.

"Ed wouldn't. He's insecure," Emmett tells her. "But I'd be too if I were seeing such a beautiful girl."

"Em." I shake my head.

Bella laughs and says, "No offense but he doesn't need to be worried. You seem like a lot to handle and…well, yeah." And then she pulls away completely and says, "I'm gonna go check on Finn," and runs off towards the kid's bedroom.

"Would you stop being so overwhelming all of the fucking time?" I ask and drop my head back on the couch. "I like the girl. I don't want her to run away because you're lunatic."

Emmett laughs and drops down onto the couch next to me. "What are you gonna do with the new addition to your family, bro?"

I look at Nemo who is just lying there on the couch. Walt has his face right next to Nemo's, just resting there. "I gotta take him to the vet tomorrow." But I should give him water.

"That thing's got like eleven million flees and a fucked up foot."

"Thanks—I didn't notice."

"Bella's cute though."

"Didn't notice that either," I say sarcastically.

Bella comes into the room with Finn on her hip. And suddenly I really want Emmett to leave and Finn to go to bed so that I can just be alone with her. She looks between both sofas unsurely. Her three options are sitting between me and Emmett, sitting next to Nemo and the floor.

I pat the seat next to me. "Come on."

"You scared of me, shadow?" Emmett asks when she sits down as close to me as possible without actually sitting on my lap.

She licks her lips and glances up at me before snuggling Finn even closer to her. "Not scared, but you're not exactly easy to ignore, are you? And it's Bella, not shadow. Unless you want me to call you jolly green giant?"

Emmett and I both laugh and so, in turn, does Finn. I lean in and whisper something to Finn and then he turns to Emmett and says, "She told you, Uncle Emmett."

I laugh again and drape my arm around Bella. "I think it's time for bed. We have to wake up early to take Nemo to the doctor," I say.

"Was that my cue?" Emmett asks with a laugh and stands up. "I actually have a date. So I will see you all later. Beautiful Bella, it was a pleasure meeting you." He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "Finnigan, catch you later."

"Later, Em," I say and stand up, lifting Finn off of Bella's lap. "Let's go, kid. Bed time. B, you coming?"

She gives me a kind, lazy sort of smile and says, "It was nice to meet you, Emmett. Good luck on your date. Try not to smother her." Emmett laughs and ducks out of the door with a salute. Bella stands and ducks close to me. "Am I staying the night?" she asks shyly.

"Bella is sleeping over?" Finn asks excitedly. "Can I have a sleepover too?"

Ah, fuck my life. "You can have a sleepover too. Let's go."

We go into my bedroom and Bella pulls down the covers for us. I drop Finn down on the bed and he giggles loudly before curling up into a ball in the middle. "Huck, give us a minute, okay? We'll be right back to tuck you in."

I take Bella's hand and lead her out of the bedroom back into the living room. Once we're finally alone I press my lips to hers. "Hi," I say against her mouth.

"Hey," she says and blushes slightly. "I kinda missed that."

I grin down at her. "Did you?" I bite her lower lip and tug on it. "Which part?"

"The you part. And maybe your lips part. And probably your taste part." She bites down on her lip and blushes harder. "I should have just said all of it."

I grin down at her and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "I like the way you said it." And then I press my lips hard to hers and put my hand on her waist and tug her close to me. "I like the way you say everything," I mumble against her lips and plunge my tongue into her mouth.

She groans and buries her hands in my hair. This girl and the way she tugs and writhes against me is gonna be the end of my life. I pull back and press my lips to her nose then her eyelids and her forehead. "I'm glad that you're here."

"There isn't any place I'd rather be."

I slide my hands down over her ass and she gasps a little bit. "We should go inside," I whisper against her lips. "Emmett corrupts the kid enough." I squeeze her ass and press my lips to hers again.

She nods and kisses me back a few times quickly before saying, "I really missed that—just so you know. A lot."

"Me too." I slide my hand down her arm and link her fingers through mine before tugging her towards the bedroom.

"Finally," Finn mumbles.

The covers are pulled up to his chin and his face looks so tiny in the middle of the huge bed. "Finally what?" I ask and dive onto the bed on top of him.

He giggles when I blow raspberries on his cheek. "You and Issybella took _so _long. What was you doing?"

I pull the covers up for Bella before getting in on Finn's other side. "We were making sure Nemo went to bed," I tell him and tug him into my side before grabbing Bella's hand and pulling her towards us.

"Did he go to bed?" he asks, peering up at me.

"I had to read him a story first."

Finn giggles and shakes his head. "Daddy, Nemo doesn't understand stories. Issybella, does Nemo understand stories?"

She nods seriously at him. "He really likes Harry Potter too. His favorite is Neville."

Finn's giggles escalate into the uncontrollable kind as he rolls onto his side so that he's facing Bella with his back pressed against me. "Did you tell him he hasta brush his teef before bed?" he asks her.

I bend my heads so my lips are by his ear and ask, "Did _you_ brush your teeth before bed?"

He nods vigorously with wide eyes. "Yes. Issybella tell daddy I brushed my teef tonight."

She gives him a wide smile and then looks at me over his head. "We both brushed our teeth." Then she blows air at me before grinning again. "See? Minty fresh."

"Yeah, daddy," Finn says and turns his head to blow his own air at me. "Minty fresh."

I laugh and press a kiss to the top of his head. "Issybella," Finn says and then yawns. He reaches out and touches her cheek. "I think you're pretty."

She smiles and kisses his forehead. "Thank you, Finn, I think you're very handsome."

This right here is perfect. This is what I dreamed my life would be like when I had a kid. A woman who meant _so _much to me in bed with the child that we made together. And even though Finn isn't a product of me and Bella, Bella acts like he's hers. Like he's her best friend and her favorite person in the world. And that means _every_thing to me.

I reach over Finn and put my hand on Bella's face. When her eyes meet mine, I smile at her. "We should go to sleep."

Finn, as if on cue, yawns. Bella nods. "Good night," I say.

"Daddy." Finn looks up at me. I lift my eyebrows at him. "I love you."

Nothing prepares me for the way my heart swells every time I hear him say that. "I love you, Huck," I tell him and kiss his forehead.

He looks at Bella then and touches her face again. "I love you too, Issybella."

At the words, my eyes shoot to Bella's face. Her eyes look glassy and her lip is quivering. And my heart, if it could, would have just exploded inside of my chest. "I love you too, Finn."

And then, just like that, we fall asleep with me and Bella sandwiching Finn with our fingers interlocked.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N- t&a- I know we say this A LOT, but it doesn't make it any less true, You all KICK ASS. Seriously. If there were an award for best readers, you all would win. **

**A couple of quick things….. there is a thread on twilighted and some fantastic people play over there, so go take a look**

**http:/ tinyurl . com / 2ed8pr9 (remove spaces for link)**

**Also whatsmynomdeplume was nice enough to lend her time and eyes to me for my chapters (bpov). I needed the help, believe me! She also created an AMAZING blinkie that will be up on my profile soon!**

_I never loved nobody fully _

_Always one foot on the ground _

_And by protecting my heart truly _

_I got lost in the sounds _

_I hear in my mind all of these voices _

_I hear in my mind all of these words _

_I hear in my mind all of this music _

_And it breaks my heart_

_Fidelity- Regina Spektor_

I wonder if I will ever feel at ease as I stand in front of this door. If I will ever feel light and free of nerves. I shift my heavy bag up further on my shoulder and knock. There's no reason for me to feel this way. I've been inside this door countless times, spent hours, nights here. But that one moment, that one stray kiss keeps my walls up, my defenses ready.

The locks click open and I wait to see one of two familiar heads of bronze hair. But yet there's blonde. The girl in front of me smirks like she knows the horrible scenarios already running through my mind.

"Uh, I'm here to see Finn," I state. She makes no effort to speak or answer any of the questions swirling in my mind. Tiny footsteps echo on the wood floors and my legs are suddenly surrounded by small arms.

"Issybella! I did not know you were coming to see me. Daddy said I had to play with Kimber," Finn exclaims. I reach down and pull him into my arms. I ease past 'Kimber' without waiting for an invite.

"I didn't tell your daddy because I was coming to see you and I didn't know your cell phone number to call and tell you," I answer. Finn smiles and shakes his head. I take a moment to be amazed by how much he resembles Edward, the only real difference being the tiny metal frames resting on his nose.

"I don't have a phone, Issybella. Kids don't have phones," he lectures me. I nod solemnly, taking my lesson from the three-year-old.

"Ed didn't say anyone was coming by," Kimber's voice breaks in. I had almost forgotten she was here. I turn my eyes towards the door, where she is now leaning against a wall. I set Finn down and smile as he runs towards his room saying something about Gryffindor.

"I didn't call. I just figured that he had to work tonight and had Finn, so I thought I would help out," I answer. She looks mildly offended by my answer, which makes me want to leave. Once again, I reminded how little I really know about Edward and his life. She walks towards me slowly and stops close enough for me to feel the need to take a few steps back.

"That's what I'm here for," she spits. I swallow and wish I hadn't loaded my bag with everything Harry Potter I could find at the dollar store and had stayed home to continue to lie to Alice about what's going on in my life.

"Issybella!" Finn runs back into the room, wearing what I think may be Edward's robe. He stumbles and almost trips, but then recovers. I wish I had his balance. He skids to a stop in front of me.

"Look! I found a wizard coat in Daddy's bathroom. I think he was hiding it from me," he states. I laugh and kneel down to his level, tying the sash around his waist.

"He probably didn't want you know that he likes to pretend to be Harry too," I say. Finn nods earnestly.

"Did I hear right? We have company?" Edward enters the room still rubbing a towel over his wet hair and the action twists my stomach in knots. He was in the shower with 'Kimber' here.

The peroxide queen makes her way to him and presses up on her toes, offering her lips to him. My whole world stops in that moment. I can't watch this again and yet, I can't tear my eyes away. Edward turns his face away and she makes contact with his jaw. He casts his eyes down to her and mumbles something that makes her face go sour. He gently pushes her away and makes his way closer to me.

"If I knew you were coming I wouldn't have had Kimber come by." He smiles as he crouches down next to Finn and I. He reaches forward and runs a finger down the side of my face.

"Hi," he breathes. He pulls me to my feet and fits his hands around my hips before brushing his lips over mine slowly. I can hear Kimber's sharp intake of breath from behind him.

"Hey," I answer. I detach myself from him, not wanting to make Kimber feel anything like I felt that day. Even if she does look like she belong at a frat party where the theme is 'bros and hoes'.

"Daddy, can Issybella play instead of Kimber? Kimber only likes to play hide and seek and then she never finds me," Finn pleads. Edward smiles at his son before turning to Kimber.

"Looks like you can go, Kimber. Sorry about that," he states. She opens and closes her mouth several times before glaring at him. She storms around the apartment, gathering her things and slams her door on the way out.

"Slamming doors is not nice," Finn states and I can't help but laugh. He looks up at me puzzled and I can't stop laughing long enough to explain.

"I might need to find a new babysitter," Edward sighs.

"I'm sorry if I ruined that for you. I should have called and told you I was coming over. I just thought I could help and I didn't know you had someone who watched Finn," I sigh. Another thing for him to worry about. The last thing I wanted to do. I didn't realize how many things can go wrong, awry in a story. Especially a story where you've given over control to a child and his man-child father. But it's better than a laundry list of events repeating, day after day. I'm starting to thrive on the change, the uncertainty.

"No, we're glad you came. Aren't we, Huck?" Edward replies. Finn launches himself at me again and I'm almost thrown on my ass.

"Issybella, are you gonna read Harry Potter with me? Or are we gonna make more cupcakes? Or we can play hide and seek and I'll find you," Finn rambles. I grab my forgotten bag and sit on the couch.

"That's a lot of things, Finn. Why don't we pick just one for tonight and maybe next time we'll do another one?" I offer. I peek at Edward as I deliver my compromise and he grins back. And just like that I feel a little lightheaded. Not fair.

I want to ask him about the blonde who just stormed out, I want to tell him that he is not allowed to kiss anyone else, but I won't. I won't because I don't want to do anything to push him away. I can't go back to the laundry list.

"Read, read, read!" Finn decides and he's off to his room again. No wonder kids sleep like the dead. I watch as Edward wanders through the apartment, shoving toys into corners and tossing dishes in the sink.

"Is that okay? If I come by and watch Finn?" I ask because he gets to decide. All the power is in his hands. But I put it there so I can't loathe it too much.

"Only if we get to play out the babysitter fantasy," Edward answers. I swallow and dig through my bag, busying myself with play wands and hats I brought. Even though I don't know what that fantasy means to him, my 'goodies' folder has taught me a little about that.

"Um, well," I stutter. He's joking. He has to be. For my sanity, he has to be.

"Ready!" Finn's voice saves me from any embarrassment and I smile as he crawls into the couch in a pair of footed pajamas. I pull him into my lap. His face lights up as he reaches for the plastic imitations on the table.

"Wow," he breathes. I chuckle.

"I'm gonna head down. You two okay?" Edward asks. I look up at him and nod. He's standing in the open doorway and as much as I don't want him to leave, I need time with the smaller, harmless Cullen.

"Bedtime is eight-thirty and don't let the munchkin tell you different," he calls as he leaves. He shuts the door and I feel a little sanity returned to me. I look down at Finn, who is pouting, no doubt in response to the mentioned bedtime.

"We have so much time before bedtime. Enough time for a quidditch match," I assure him. His face transforms and I am glad, for once, that my penchant for books rather than people is finally paying off.

"Really?" he asks, reverently. I nod. He snuggles into me further and I swear to God, my heart flutters. There is something in the blood of these men.

"Do you want to read out here on the couch… or do you want to have a slumber party in your daddy's bed?" I ask. I know that I cheated with the wording, but I selfishly want to feel closer to the man downstairs.

"We can't wear shoes or eat cookies in Daddy's bed unless he says so," Finn informs me. I laugh and toe off my shoes. I gather the book and a couple of the toys from the table. Finn takes off for his dad's room and I take my time switching off lights. And there's that feeling. The comfort, the ease. It was just waiting for the lights to go off.

I enter Edward's bedroom to find Finn under the covers and lecturing Walt and Nemo.

"No, doggies. No dogs on Daddy's bed. You stay on the floor." I chuckle and crawl into the bed next to him. He instantly curls into my side and I'm a little overwhelmed. This little boy is amazing. By all means, he shouldn't be this happy, this well adjusted, but like everything involving Edward, he defies the odds.

"Issybella, are you my friend?" Finn asks. His words make my chest contract. I shift a little so I can look down at him. His eyes are wide and a replica of Edward's. I reach down and push the metal framing them back into place.

"Yeah. Of course, I'm your friend. That's why I came to see you," I answer truthfully. Maybe in another life, we were the same age and our story came together in a more typical way. I'm sure it's looked upon as odd that I count a three year old as one of my favorite friends.

"You're my friend more than you're Daddy's friend, right?" he presses and I chuckle a little. I wish I knew what I was to his father. That it could be as easy as the conversation I am having right now. I flip the book open and press my fingers to the page.

"I'm both of your friends. Can I be both of your friends?" I ask. He purses his lips in thought before nodding fitfully and pressing further into my side. I begin to read and am almost distracted constantly by Finn's reactions, his face rising and falling with every scene.

Slowly, the words melt together and everything becomes a little hazy, between the fictional story, the tiny warm body next to me and my constant inner turmoil over the man downstairs and his errant lips. It feels like my story is in limbo, without a certain classification. I had always wanted my story to have a happy ending, not be a continual mystery.

My eyes feel heavy and my body even heavier. I move towards the tiny source of heat next to me, but it is suddenly pulled away. Panicked, I shoot up . A hand covers my shoulder.

"Shh, Bella, it's just me. Easy, baby," Edward whispers. I take a deep breath and relax back into the pillows. My heart is still slightly racing. I blink several times, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. The book is heavy in my lap and I can feel a plastic wand under my back.

I sit up and push the unwelcome objects to the floor. My movements remind me of my jeans and I lift my hips to shimmy out of them. By the time I settle back under the covers, Edward's form darkens the doorway.

"How was work? Did you cure the world with beer and vodka?" My voice is hoarse with sleep and I swallow a couple times to try and make it go away. He toes off his shoes and shoves his jeans off, leaving a trail of clothing in his wake. The weight of his body bends the mattress and I willingly move towards the dip.

"It sucked," he sighs. He reaches for me, wrapping himself around me. "Being stuck downstairs while everything I wanted was up here."

His words bring forth that familiar tingle. He runs his nose up my neck and presses his lips to my ear. I sigh and push myself impossibly closer. I tilt my head down and breathe into the crock of his neck before running my lips along his collarbone.

"It's not fun being an adult. Sometimes, we have to work and do things we don't want to. It can't be all Harry Potter and cuddles," I answer.

"I can do without Harry, but I really like the cuddles," he says as he chuckles. I smile into his skin and feel his legs nudge between mine. I shift, trying to make his movement easier. He tenses briefly before settling.

"You took your pants off," he breathes. My breath catches because I didn't even think about it. I just didn't want to sleep in jeans. I know better than to try and pull away from him, but suddenly a heat rises between us.

"I can put them back on if you want," I offer. I can't help but smile with my words. He doesn't answer, just pulls me tighter, closer. I snake my arms out and tangle them into his hair, running my fingernails along his scalp. A shiver works its way through his body and it makes me grin. Sometimes, being in control feels really good.

"I'm sorry I made things awkward between you and your babysitter. Or whatever she was. I was just trying to help," I say. I figure this is s a good time to bring this up, while he's at my mercy. He sighs and nudges my neck again with his nose.

"Things are always awkward between us. She wants to fuck me," he supplies. Like it's not a big deal, like it happens every day. It probably does. I can't hide the tension that creeps through me with his words, even though I want to because I know he can feel it.

"Fuck you or fuck you again?" I mutter. Because I am a glutton for punishment. His hands reach around me and palm my ass, pulling me into him further and I can feel him, parts of him I haven't really been introduced to.

"I would've never hired her if I had fucked her," he states. And I nod, grateful that he answered. Knowing he didn't have to, that I wouldn't have. I ease my hands from his hair and simple cradle his face.

"I'd like to come hang out with Finn when you have to work. If that's okay with you. We have big plans." Because I am almost as attached to his child as I am to him. I can feel him smile into my neck.

"Of course that's okay." I feel relief pour over me. Not that I thought he would say no, but hearing yes always feels so good. My hands move back into his hair and I readjust my position, pressing my forehead to his so I can see his eyes.

"So, same day next week?" I ask. His brow twitches and he hesitates. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"I'm going to be away next week," he answers. The wind is knocked out of me. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with myself if he's not here. Even when I'm not with him now, I know he's here or downstairs or somewhere I can be. I bite my lips hard, trying to keep this emotion from surfacing on my face.

"Oh. Okay, well then the next week, I guess," I stammer. I shift my face back into his neck, trying to avoid his gaze and being discovered. I'm being ridiculous.

"It's only for a couple of days. Finn's going to be with his mom," he offers. I nod against his skin, but stay hidden. So I'll be alone. My story will be a solitary one for a few days. Nothing I haven't done before. It's a scenario that lines too many of my pages.

"Well, have fun, I guess," I grit out. I don't mean it. He shifts, making me even more aware of him and everything becomes a little raw.

"Well, that's the thing. I was actually wondering if you'd be able to take off from work to come with me," he offers. My head shoots up, narrowly missing his chin and I look at him, wide eyed.

"Yes." The word falls from my mouth at an alarming speed. His eyes light up with amusement and he smirks.

"That was quick. Don't you need to ask your boss or something?" he teases. I roll my eye and trail my nose along his jaw. I smile when his breath falters.

"You don't even want to know how many vacation days I have saved up," I reply. I nudge my knee forward and graze his dick and I feel his whole body convulse. I repeat the action and he groans a little.

"Please don't start something you're not going to finish," he heaves. I pull one hand from his hair and trail it down his torso slowly, taking time to appreciate every shuddering breath he lets out. I let my fingers linger at the waistband of his boxers and take a deep breath, steeling myself against my nerves.

I know what this means and I know I am the one crossing this line. No further words or commitments have been given, but I'm hearing things in the words he's not saying. Hearing things in the way he looks at me, touches me and I want to reply, with actions.

"I'm not teasing," I answer firmly before running my hand down and over his shaft. He hisses and presses himself into my hand.

"Oooohhh shit," he breathes and flexes his hands, which I forgot were on my ass. I press a little harder, gripping him through his boxer briefs. My heart is racing and I slide my eyes closed, wanting to just feel.

"That's it. Just like that, baby," he encourages. I let his words spur me on and I remove my hand. He grunts his disapproval, but quiets down when I reach inside his boxers. As inexperienced as I am, I know how to do this. I grip my hand around his soft skin and move slowly at first, getting a feel for him and his heat.

His hips twitch and he presses his dick more fully into my hand, so I grip tighter and bring my fingers all the way to the tip, running my thumb over the head and spreading out the moisture there. The look on his face has me mesmerized, the hooded eyes, the slight pout to his lips as he pants softly.

"More?" I ask, because I love hearing him ask, hearing his reaction to me. He thrusts into my hand and grips my ass even tighter.

"Don't stop," he hisses. I turn my body to face him completely and cover his lips with mine as my hand increases speed. I let him pant into my mouth and I twist my hand and pull a little. I reach my other hand down and squeeze his balls and he arches forward into my touch. I am consumed by the feel of him under my feeble control. The noises he's making, the natural draw of his body to mine, I'm addicted.

I increase the pressure of my hand and stroke his tongue with my own. The taste of him familiar, comforting, like my favorite flavor of ice cream. His breathing increases and I can feel his body tense against mine. I slow my hand down, wanting to prolong the experience. He groans in protest and I take the moment to occupy his mouth and tongue.

One of his hands rises up my back and twists under my shirt to grab my breast. I groan into his mouth this time around and he smiles. I speed everything up and he tears away from my mouth.

"Shit," he hisses and I squeeze a little harder. He palms harder on my boob and I bite my lip to keep my own noises at bay. I want him to be the star of this moment, for his pleasure to be the focus. His hips thrust against me and then everything tenses and my hand is coated in warmth.

Even his hand is slack on my boob. I lean forward and kiss his slightly parted lips over and over, hoping to revive him. From this close to him, I can feel his racing heart slow as his lax body begins to move to grip me close to him again.

His eyes open and he grins at me, big and lazy. I smile back, loving that I made him feel good. His head tilts towards mine and I open my mouth to him instantly, letting him probe my mouth with his tongue.

I suck on his tongue a little and taste a slight tinge of alcohol. I don't even realize his hands are covering my boobs until he squeezes them both at once, tearing a moan from me as my back arches into his touch.

"That felt so fucking good." And I grin because even though the answer is written on his face, I need the reassurance. He squeezes again and my back arches. I think there might be a string from my boobs to my spine. His fingers roll my nipples and I swear to god, my lips are going to suffer abuse if I am going to stay quiet.

He chuckles a little and one hand dips down stroking my stomach for a second before lifting my shirt and tracing the lace edge of my underwear. I suck in an involuntary breath and my eyes shoot open to meet his. I can see the question there, him not wanting to cross that line and I simply lean into his lips again.

His tongue slides into my mouth at the same moment his finger presses into me and damn if he doesn't feel so much better than my 'finger and toys'. His lips become more insistent as he slips a second finger into me and my hips buck against his hand.

His digits twist and bend inside of me and it's all I can do to not squirm away from his touch as the pressure builds faster than I thought possible. I can't help the cry that slips from my mouth into his when his thumb nudges my clit. He leans into me further and presses again.

Everything about this moment has me in overdrive. Just the idea of him finally being in this scene, giving me this pleasure, isn't something I thought would be part of my story.

"That's it. Let it go, baby," he urges and his words only help increase the build. His thumb rubs more insistently and I feel like I'm falling off a cliff.

My legs twitch and tense and he bends his fingers once more before my hips lift off the bed and a strangled moan falls from my mouth. He doesn't stop until my body goes slack against the mattress. He presses a slow kiss to my lips and slides his hand from my out from lace and cotton.

"That was really sexy," he whispers into my ear, kissing the shell softly. I let out a shuddering breath and run my nose along his jaw. His hands grip my back and rub up and down slowly. I feel soft, relaxed and so content, it should be illegal.

He pulls away from me and I whimper without thought, missing his warmth.

"Be right back, baby. There's nothing sexy about the mess in my boxers," he says as he chuckles. I watch him as he walks away and disappears into the bathroom. I hear water running and bury my face in my pillow. I stretch my legs and feel the residual tingle run through them. It's never felt this good.

He flicks off the bathroom light and I feel him sink into bed next to me. He turns me slightly before easing his hand back between my legs. One hand lowers my boy breifs while the other rubs a warm washcloth over and between my legs. I moan a little at the touch on a still sensitive spot, but kiss him softy when he looks worried.

"Thank you," I breathe when he pulls away. The rag is tossed expertly at his dirty clothes hamper and then he wraps around me again. My eyes feel heavy with pleasure and exhaustion.

"I think we waited too long to do that," he sighs. I nod into his neck and pull back a little to turn. I press my back into him and relax. Tomorrow, I'll think about what this means for my story. Tomorrow, I'll worry about the other heroines in his plot, but for now I want this. I want him.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N t&s: **we love, love, _love _you guys. seriously. thank you for reading & reviewing & keeping us smiling all freaking day long & for just being you. you're all amazing.

we don't own.

_We ride down these living seas  
Down these living seas  
The waves will come and the deepest feelings  
We turn clever thieves to steal the breath from angry seas  
Hold me down where blood meets water  
Where time and black and white bright blue until you breathe._

_And we ride._

"We Ride" Fiction Family

When I came home last night and saw my kid curled up, asleep against a sleeping Bella in my bed, I had an irrational moment. I took them both in and said to myself, _This is how it's supposed to be. This is how it _always _should have been_. Bella. Bella was that missing piece in my life that I never even realized was missing.

I stood there and I watched them and I realized that that is exactly what I want to come home to every single night: my son and this warm beautiful woman that cares for both of us endlessly, waiting for me in my bed. Because yes, she's awkward and she's innocent but she's untainted. She gives herself and her heart unconditionally. She's beautiful.

"Bella." I slant her a look. "If you're going to keep picking bad shit, I'm turning the radio off."

She chuckles and shifts in her seat. "Why do you get to decide what's bad and good? I like it. And it's on _your _iPod. That makes it fair game."

I shake my head but can't help the smile that tugs at my lips because she's become so much more comfortable around me. "It's Finn's music. We're not listening to songs made for three year olds on a six hour drive."

"Well maybe Finn has better taste than you. And you should be focusing on driving, not what I'm doing. Eyes on the road."

"But you're prettier than the road," I say in a whiny voice. She smacks my arm and blushes a bright shade of pink that makes me laugh. I catch her hand and link my fingers with hers. "You shouldn't slap people while they're driving. I'm debilitating your hand for the rest of the ride. Safety hazard."

A small smile crosses her lips and she squeezes my hand once softly. "If you don't wanna listen to music, what do you want to do?"

"Charades?" I offer and lift an eyebrow at her.

She shakes her head. "That would involve your eyes and hands and you need to drive. I'd like to actually make it to where we're going and Finn wouldn't appreciate you offing his best friend. How about you tell me more stories?"

"Stories about what?" I ask and lift both of our hands to turn down the volume before settling them against my leg.

She turns in her seat to face me and rests her head down against it. Her shoes were kicked off about an hour ago and she has one leg tucked up against her chest. "About you, about Finn… anything you want to tell me."

"I want you to meet my parents," I blurt out without even thinking about it. The thought hadn't ever really crossed my mind but hearing the words out loud makes me realize that I really do want that. I look at her through the corner of my eye to assess her reaction. Bella is jittery around people. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

She freezes and then her eyes widen before she nods, takes a deep breath and swallows hard. "Yeah? Are you sure? I'm not very good with parents. I do that whole word vomit thing and they might think there's something wrong with me."

I breathe out a laugh and lift her hand to press my lips to her knuckles. "That's exactly what they'll love about you. The word vomit. Because it's really cute. And anyway, the two of them are their own breed of weird. Who else would adopt an angry teenage boy?"

She chews on her free thumb and then smiles around it. "If you want me to, I'd really like to. A lot, actually."

"Good." We sit silently for a few minutes with music playing quietly in the background. "So, what do you think of Emmett?"

She cocks her head and laughs at me. Laughs.

"What are you laughing at?"

"You're all over the place today," she says but she sounds totally amused by it. Like I'm adorable or some shit. "They say that comes from nerves. Are you nervous? I mean, um, yeah, Emmett is very… nice."

"I'm not all over the place," I tell her even though I am. "I was just trying to make conversation."

She chuckles and ducks her head. "Emmett is nice enough, a little large for me, but nice."

I shake my head. I totally want to fuck with her. "You don't have to lie to me, Bella. I mean, I definitely don't like your… _friend _Matt but I acknowledge that he's your friend."

"You mean Mike? What does Mike have to do with Emmett? I'm not lying."

"Bella, I've known Emmett for almost ten years. Nobody has ever described him as nice before."

She starts chewing on her thumb again. "Well, he's a little loud and overwhelming, but Finn seems to like him so he can't be all that bad."

"He likes you," I tell her. "Thinks you're pretty."

"Well, he seems like some kind of smooth talker. And he probably says that to all the girls."

I shake my head. "Nah, Em tells it like it is. I was dating a girl a few years ago and he used to call her Eli… for Eli Manning. Because he said she had shoulders like a linebacker."

She covers her mouth when she gasps and then a cross between a giggle and a snort escape. I grin. "That is _so _not okay. What if she knew? She would be devastated."

"She did know. She thought he was flirting with her. After we broke up she showed up wasted at his door and tried to get him to sleep with her."

She doesn't try to cover her laughter now and I smile at her. I like making her laugh. I like making her happy. And that is a huge thing for me because for the longest time I was only ever really concerned with my kid's happiness.

"I shouldn't laugh. That's awful."

I shrug. "She acted like an asshole. She deserves it." Bella sighs and leans back against the seat. "What about you? Any crazy exes?" I ask even though the thought of her with another man makes me kind of nauseous.

She lowers her head and shrugs. "A couple of boys here and there. Nothing too exciting."

"First love?" I probe.

She keeps her head down and says, "Not in that group. The highlight was the one who took me to a Six Flags and then threw up in my purse."

Her voice is so small, her face is blocked by her hair and my heart breaks for her. Because I don't think Bella has ever had people in her life that ever saw who she was, quirks and all, and accepted and loved her for them. And it makes me fucking mad. Because Bella deserves love more than just about anybody else that I know.

"You're better off," I tell her and squeeze her hand. "You know what they say about men with weak stomachs."

She looks up at me finally. "Nope, I haven't heard that. What do they say?"

"That they have small hands. And you _know _what they say about men with small hands," I continue, trying to coax a smile out of her. "They're dicks are like tampons."

She chuckles. "It all comes back to that. Only you could go from vomit to penises."

I turn to look at her briefly. "Matt has small hands."

"Mike. His name is Mike. And why were you looking at his hands? You have some kind of hand fetish?"

"I was looking at his hands because they were on you."

She rolls her eyes at me. "That is not true. He wasn't going to touch me even if he wanted to because he was scared of you and the crusties you were giving him."

I snort and turn to stare at her. "What the hell are crusties?"

"Bad looks. Like you could crust something over with your eyes. You know."

I shake my head. "Eye crusties are disgusting not scary. Are you saying my face is disgusting?" I ask dramatically.

"You know your face is not disgusting. Take your fishing somewhere else."

I jut my lower lip out at her. "It'd be nice to hear it once in a while."

"Edward, you're the most attractive thing since boy bands."

I frown at her. "What, like Joey McIntyre? Bella, you're comparing me to Joey McIntyre? Baby, he was _such _a tool. _And _girly. That is so not a compliment."

She presses her face to her knee and her laughter fills the car. "Fine," she says once she catches her breath. "You're the Justin Timberlake of boy bands. Happy?"

"Only if you'll be my Britney," I tell her with a wink and a smile. "I still think they belong together."

Her laughter takes over and she shakes her head and tries to reign it in but can't. And it's so fucking nice to see her all red and shit from laughter that I caused. "I am _so _not Britney Spears. I will not be shaving my head any time soon, thanks."

"Why not? Joan of Arc did it. I think it's sexy. She made a statement."

She laughs more and shakes her head again. "I kinda adore you," she says and then all sound from her ceases completely. I look over and her eyes are wide. "I mean, you make me laugh and I love that you think shaved heads are sexy. I just, you know, it's funny?"

I look her over and then extract my hand from hers and run it over her head. "I think your head is sexier."

She blushes and pulls back a little bit. "There is nothing sexy about a head," she says with a nervous laugh, eyeing me and biting down on her lip.

"First of all, your face is on it. Second of all, you have shiny hair. Third, I like your brain and it protects it. And fourth, it's attached to your body. So it's actually _really _sexy."

She smiles at me. "Oh, well, I guess in that case, I think your head is pretty great as well."

"_Finally," _I say dramatically. "A compliment."

The bellboy shows us to our room and I give him a tip even though he's been checking Bella's ass out for five minutes now. I shut the door behind us, drop my bag on the floor, and drop face first onto the bed. I love my own bed. Most of the time, I can't sleep anywhere besides my own bed. But there's something about the way they fluff the pillows here that can't be beat _anywhere_.

"Which drawer do you want?"

I roll over onto my side and look at Bella. Her suitcase is open on top of the dresser and she's staring at me patiently. "What do you mean?" I ask.

She blinks and then points at the drawers. "I usually prefer to be on top, but if that's what you prefer then I'll take the bottom."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Are you propositioning me? Because I'm really not picky. Although I am really partial to having you bent over and being on top."

She furrows her eyebrow and then looks between me and the dresser for a minute before her mouth drops open. "Oh I well, I was talking about the drawers. But I'm sure if that's what you like, I'd like it too. I mean, I don't really have a preference yet so, well, you know."

I grin at her. Honestly, it's all I can do to keep my laughter inside. She's seriously the cutest fucking thing I have ever known in my life. "I don't get it then," I say and try to hold my smile back. "Why are you all the way over there and not on this bed with me?"

She smiles shyly at me and then starts walking towards the bed. "I thought you wanted to go out? Isn't it a little early to go to bed? I mean, it's fine if that's what you want to do."

I wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug until she's lying down on her side next to me. I trace the swell of her cheekbone with my finger and then tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "You're so pretty," I whisper and press my lips to the tip of her nose. "I definitely want to go out with you."

Her eyes flutter shut and a small sigh escapes her lips. "Thank you for bringing me, Edward. It means a lot."

I press my mouth to hers briefly. "I'm glad you came. We should make a toast to our first ever vacation together. You like champagne?"

"Yeah, I like the way it fuzzes on the way down."

"Good. I'll call down for a bottle." I roll over towards the phone and while I'm waiting for room service to answer I ask her, "Where do you want to go tonight? Do you wanna go dancing?"

I want to see her dance. I want to hold her against me and feel her sway her hips with mine.

"Whatever you want, but I'm not the best dancer. I only ever learned the Macarena."

I drop back as the laughter comes out in a really attractive series of snorts just as the room service person picks up. "Hi," I say and try to subdue my laughter. "Sorry. Can you send up a bottle of champagne?"

I roll back over towards her after I hang up, still laughing just at how fucking absurd and adorable she is. "If I remember correctly, you're supposed to shake your ass the whole time you do the Macarena, right?" She nods. "Good. That's the only type of dancing I'm interested in anyway."

x*x

The beat is strong, the crowd isn't overwhelming, there are no strobe lights and Bella is wearing a short, flowing little skirt and two tank tops. Her cheeks are flushed from the champagne we drank and her hair is windblown and tousled and just really, really sexy. I am in heaven.

I wrap my hand around her waist and guide her to the bar. I let her stand in front of me, right up against the bar, and then put my hands on either side of her before leaning in close to her ear. "What do you wanna drink?"

She turns her head slightly and gives me a huge, wide smile. "You pick. You're the expert and you always pick good for me." And then she leans back and presses her body against mine.

After I order our drinks I turn her so that she's leaning against the bar and facing me. I'm totally crowding her space right now but there are a lot of assholes leering at her and I'm not into that shit. "You look really good," I say into her ear and then press my lips to the curve of her neck.

She laughs and wraps her arms around my waist. "You just like it when I wear skirts cause you can touch more skin." I pull my lips from her neck to look down and grin at her. "But that's okay cause I like it when you touch."

"Well, thank god for that." I graze the smooth, bare skin of her thigh with my finger just as the bartender slides our drinks towards us. I hand Bella hers. "Little sips," I tell her with a wink and then tug her towards a table.

When we finish our drinks, I stand up and hold my hand out to her. "Let's go dance."

Her eyes widen. "Yeah? You sure? Even if I only shake my ass?"

I laugh. "Especially if you only shake your ass." She places her hand in mine hesitantly and I tug her up. "Stop making that face. You look like I'm walking you to the electric chair."

"It would be your funeral, not mine. I'm sure you're used to looking good when you dance."

I wrap my arms around her waist so that her hips are pressed tightly to mine before leaning down and saying, "You'd look good even if you stood here and did the chicken dance."

Her hands slide up my chest and around my neck as she eases into the rhythm of my hips. I lean down and take her earlobe in between my lips before sliding down, leaving open-mouthed kisses down and across her throat to her other ear. "Not so bad, is it?" I ask and put my left leg in between hers.

She shakes her head and then looks up at me through dark, heavy eyes. "Yeah, but you do everything well. Even stupid things, like eating fried chicken and painting."

I slide one hand down over her ass and slip the other into her hair. "I'm pretty sure I'm not dancing with myself right now," I tell her before pressing my lips to hers for a hard, hungry kiss that she reciprocates immediately. In seconds she's pushing her tongue into my mouth and rubbing against me.

Fuck me.

We're in a public place and all I want to do is lift her up, push her against a wall and fuck her until she screams my name.

Totally not appropriate for a first time.

I pull away and we both stare at each other breathing heavily, bodies still swaying to the music. "Want another drink?" I ask as calmly as I can. I do not want her to know how badly I want to defile her in a room full of drunk people with Drake blasting.

She nods eagerly and licks her lips. "Something new? Pick another one for me? I feel like it's a night for firsts."

I groan and run my fingers through my hair. Don't say the word feel. Don't say the word first. Don't even think it. "Come on." I put my arm around her again and try to maintain as little contact as possible.

I hand her the drink which, thank god there's barely any alcohol in it because she downs it in one shot and then slams it down on the bar before pressing herself against me. "Can we go back now?"

I look at her, at the full drink in my hand, and then back at her. "We just got here," I remind her.

I lift my drink as she glances around us before leaning up towards my ear. "I need you to have intercourse with me."

The whiskey in my mouth spews out all over the bar. I don't know if I should laugh at the fact that she just said intercourse or if I should cry because I absolutely cannot take this girl's virginity when she's drunk. "Jesus, Bella."

She chews on her lip and blinks up at me. "You don't want to?"

I rub my forehead because it's honestly the only thing I can think to do right now. "Of course I want to."

She tugs on my hand and tries to move towards the exit. "Okay, then let's go back to the room. I think a bed will make for a less intrusive experience for me."

Jesus Christ. If this were anybody besides this girl, I'd honestly believe that I was being punked. I put my drink down on the bar only because I really don't want to continue this conversation here and let her drag me towards the door. "What do you mean a less intrusive experience?" I ask her once we're outside.

She hums a little but keeps tugging me towards the hotel. "Well, I've heard the first time isn't exactly great… so we can push through that and move right on to the good bits."

This is god punishing me for every casual fuck I've ever had in my life. That's the only way I can explain why this is happening to me right now. This adorable fucking woman is leading me to a hotel room, propositioning having sex for the first time like she's reading out of a biology text book, and I have to say no to her.

"Bella," I say and stop walking right outside of our hotel. "Baby, I don't think this is a good idea right now."

She halts and staggers a little bit but catches herself before she completely loses her balance, and then she turns to face me with her big, confused brown eyes. "Why not? I could feel how much you wanted me, and the alcohol makes me feel extra good."

I put my hand on her cheek and stroke idly with my thumb. "Because there won't be any alcohol involved in our first time together," I answer in a low voice because this is literally taking all of my self control.

She purses her lips and narrows her eyes in confusion. "That's just silly. You live above a bar, work in one every night—alcohol is everywhere. How can it not be there? You going to take me to some deserted island?"

I give her a small smile and shake my head. "I want you sober," I clarify. "When you're sober and you tell me that you need to have… how did you put it? Intercourse with me, I won't say no."

She backs away from me with the closest thing to a scowl I've ever seen on her face. "That's a stupid ass excuse. And why do I have to ask? Why can't you want that? I might never ask again."

"Come here," I say softly and pull her back into my arms. I really don't want to hurt her feelings. "I can't do this like this." I put both of my hands on the sides of her face and wait until her eyes meet mine. "You should not be drunk for your first time. And you definitely won't be drunk for our first time together."

She shakes me off, huffs and mutters, "Always talking about sex and teasing. So much teasing, but noooo. Figures," and then she turns on her heels. "Never mind. Forget it. Please forget this happened, that I ever asked."

I don't say anything as I follow her through the hotel. A combination of guilt and desire are pounding the worst mother fucking headache into my skull. I'm trying to do the right fucking thing for once. I'm really fucking trying.

I slip into the elevator before the door slides shut. Bella is leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest and a pout that, under any other circumstances, would be completely adorable.

"I have one thing to say and then we can stop talking about this," I tell her. "You do understand that I want to have sex with you, right? That I'm not saying no because I don't want you?"

She retreats into the farthest corner from me. "This is about you being my first. If I had been a slutty cheerleader we would have had sex in the parking lot, or somewhere filthy like that."

I shake my head at her. "I'm not going to treat you like a slut, Bella. I'm trying to do the right thing by you because trust me, if it were up to me we would've fucked before we left for the club, in the club, and when we got back from the club. So yeah, this is about me being your first. I don't want it to be something you wake up and regret tomorrow morning."

She swallows and lifts her thumb to her mouth as the elevator stops at our floor. "I should have just slept with Matt Barnes in grade 11," she says and then strides off of the elevator.

I follow her out and grab her arm, spinning her around. "Are you kidding me? You really want it to mean nothing? If you really don't give a shit then fine, let's go. We can do it right here. I've been waiting for months anyway."

She swallows hard again and then reaches up and cups my face in her hand. "I just wanna feel close to you, be close to you. I didn't mean to make you angry. Don't be angry. I'll cross my legs and be good."

I laugh and lean in to press a soft kiss to her lips. "Just cross them for tonight." I cup the back of her neck and press my lips to hers again. "Can we go into our room now?"

She nods against me. "Yes please, a bed sounds really good. And I'll be good. I promise."

"You're not gonna try to violate me in my sleep?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I can sleep on the couch if you want."

I let out another laugh and tug her towards our room. "Yeah, right. I want you in my bed."

She slumps against me and kicks her shoes off once we're in the room. "I won't ask again, promise. Just wanna sleep, pretend this was a dream or a nightmare, not sure."

"You'll think it's funny tomorrow," I reassure her as we climb into the big bed. After the lights are out, I tug her against me. "Seriously, don't be embarrassed for telling the truth, okay? I like it when you're honest with me."

She rubs her cheek against my chest and then kisses the skin over my heart and mumbles, "I don't think this will be funny."

I grin and kiss the top of her head. "Don't worry about it. Goodnight, Bella."

She doesn't reply and a few seconds later I hear her snore softly. She is going to be _so _embarrassed tomorrow. I chuckle at the thought. What a crazy fucking woman. I seriously don't think she could be anymore perfect.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N- t&a- I know this is late, but a decided to take her ass to Greece and leave me here all alone. So for a few weeks Sunday will be the update day. When she's back and I recover from the abandonment, we'll go back to twice a week ;)**

**That being said. Could you all rock any harder? Every review brings a smile to our faces, some pep to our steps. People are starting to think we're down right cheery. Love and custom drinks to you all!**

**As always, we don't own.**

_I followed your story I followed your tail_

_Followed you straight through the _

_Doors of your jail cell too_

_Followed your voice in the darkness soft_

_A wind came through and carried it off_

_I followed your love till it never really was at all_

_Drank all I could swallow_

_Now the moon's gonna' follow me home_

_Moon Song- Patty Griffin_

Someone could write a saga based on the events in this one building. I walk down the line of tables slowly, smiling at the people who make eye contact and trying not to stare at some of the more, decorated people. The thing about these people is that they look hard, scary even and yet they're all smiles and I feel oddly comfortable.

I didn't even know that body art conventions existed. Not that that's surprising, but now looking around, soaking it all in, I wish someone would have brought me sooner. The stories jump off the skin, begging to be read, written down. And in their own way they have been. Put to skin rather than paper.

A man with a banner above his head naming him 'the lizard man' smiles widely at me before slipping a forked tongue between his lips. My eyes go wide and he laughs heartily, almost like Santa Claus. There are contradictions like this all around me.

Kind of like the cluster mess that happened last night. Unlike some people I am not gifted with memory loss with drunkenness. Every detail feels bored into my memory like they were put there with one of these tattoo guns littering the convention center.

After all his teasing, all his promises, he turned me down. I needed the alcohol. Needed the excuse of the supposed 'inhibition lifter' to ask him the question I wished I could ask when I am sober. It wasn't about the timing or a feeling it was about wanting that moment to be with him. Not anyone, not someone in the far or near future, but him. And I thought he would jump at the chance.

I can't even begin to think about the words that tumbled from my loosened lips. My face heats up just remembering it. Maybe if I had better dialogue, a better combination of sounds, he would have said yes.

I pick up a brochure and glance over the services offered at the booth and again my eyes grow wide. This might be a permanent condition for me here. The detailed pictures of the piercings are shocking, but I can't help but look closer. I didn't even know some of these things were possible.

My eyes flit back down the long row of displays to find him. He's still leaning against the table smiling and speaking with his hands. My eyes avoid the object of his attention. The person, woman, who the instant we walked in grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him squarely on the lips. He didn't even fight it or seem put off by it.

It was easy for me to make some excuse about exploring and slip away. His eyes followed me for the first couple of booths, but then the 'old friend' demanded more of his attention. I wonder if he would have said no to her. If she offered herself up.

I shake my head trying to chase these thoughts from my mind. He insisted it was because I was drunk. Told me then, and this morning over breakfast that under different circumstances things would be different. What circumstances? And how likely is that to happen when I'm probably never going to muster up the courage to come on to him ever again. EVER again.

"You thinking about a piercing?" I jump as the deep voice booms into my thoughts. I drop the flier and then look up at the man in front of me. Unlike a lot of the people here he's more clean cut, dimples even. I smile at him and feel my face flush, the flier is open to the genital piercings.

"Um, I don't know. I was just looking I guess. I've never seen so many…things pierced," I stammer. He laughs, his head falling back and the sound echoing in the large metal building. Several people at nearby booths look over, but turn away quickly.

"Well people are creative. You can get just about anything pierced these days," he answers once he gains his composure. I nod solemnly and lean a little to watch someone behind him lift his shirt. My eyes go wide.

"What is he having done?" I whisper. He twists to look and grins when he faces me again.

"Just a nipple," he states. Just a nipple? I watch as the needle is removed from the plastic and my knees go a little weak. Who would be crazy enough to let anything like that near their nipples?

"It actually increases sensitivity. Feels pretty fucking amazing. Wanna try it out?" he asks, the toothy grin back. I guess I said that out loud. I cross my arms over my boobs instinctively and he laughs again. My eyes search out Edward again and I watch as 'old friend' leans forward and whispers something in his ear. He laughs and my stomach clenches. The power he has over me is just not fair.

"That your guy?" big brawny asks. Eyes wide again, I should just change my name to Bambi. I look up at Dimples and back towards Edward again before sighing.

"Uh, we came here together, but I don't think he's mine. We've never said anything like that. I don't really know," I ramble. No laughter this time. I look up to see dimples, sans dimples glaring down towards Edward.

"He's an ass if he's down there chatty up Caren when he could be here with you. Caren is old news. Everybody has seen her pussy metal," Dimples almost growls. So 'old friend' has a name. I wonder if Edward has seen her….wait. pussy metal? My face heats up again with the combination of piercings and talk of Edward.

"Things are complicated and I guess he really likes to kiss people. Maybe I shouldn't care. Kissing isn't that big of a deal," I sigh. This guy should charge me for therapy or I should shut my mouth like I'm talking to a heavily pierced stranger, which I am.

Dimples places both hands on the table in front of him before leaning towards me. I lean back a little.

"What do you think about kissing?" he asks. I bring my thumb to my mouth and chew on the nail furiously. Why am I still standing here? My eyes seek out Edward again. Oh right because my 'guide' is busy and the man currently leaning into my personal bubble is the least intimidating person in my line of sight.

"I haven't done as much research as he has. It has a lot to do with who your kissing I guess," I reply stiffly. Dimples laughs again and leans back into his own bubble. The man behind him is now heavy one tiny ring in his right nipple and I watch as he checks out the metal in the mirror.

"It really does feel amazing, but I'm not going to push you. You seem like the type that scares easily," Dimples laughs. I look back up at him and count the piercings in his face. 8 including ears.

"I don't like him kissing other people. I hate it. I don't kiss anyone else and I don't want him to either," I spit. Dimples pulls back like my words could have pushed him, but I can't feel bad. I'm too busy feeling like a weight has been lifted off me. Why can't I say that to Edward?

"Listen doll," Dimples leans over the table again, a serious look on his face, "If you don't want him hanging all over other girls you're going to have to make yourself real clear. Men are idiots. They only speak literal."

I swallow and nod. It makes sense. Subtle hints and pointed looks haven't made it through his skull. I guess I need a more direct, clear method. Dimples sighs as I glance down the row again. I am pathetic. Edward's eyes scan the room and meet mine, half smiles and half concern.

"You want to send him a real clear message?" Dimples asks. I bring my eyes back to him and nod adamantly. Isn't that the whole point of this conversation? He leans even further into me, his eyes shooting over to Edward quickly. He licks his lips slowly and exhales heavily.

"Don't panic, but he's looking and while this might get my ass kicked, I'm gonna consider this is a favor to you Doll," he breathes and then his lips are on mine. I can feel the differences immediately. His lips are thin and almost too hard. He's missing the softness that defines Edward's lips. Lips meet again and he pulls my bottom lip between his, careful to keep our mouths shut.

I only pucker my lips, not able to participate more than that. It feels wrong, but vindicated. Dimples is my new confidant, surely that is equal status to an 'old friend'. Dimples presses his lips to mine a few more times and then I hear it. A purposeful clearing of the throat.

I jerk back from Dimples to see Edward leaning against the table next to me. He looks between Dimples and I a couple of times. Dimples grins in return.

"Hey man, you looking for a piercing?" he asks. I almost laugh at his nonchalance. Edward narrows his eyes before turning them back to me. I shift under his stare.

"Bella, can I speak to you? Privately?" he asks. His eyes hold mine to his and I swallow before nodding slowly. He takes my hand and tugs me away. I smile back at Dimples as he disappears. Edward weaves us through the crowd and I'm distracted from his anger by the swirling ink and metal around me. It's not until we're tucked in a forgotten corner and the art is hidden that I look up at him.

"How is Caren?" I ask. The sarcasm surprises even me. It's probably borrowed from Dimples. His eyes remain hard and trained on me. I look back, feigning innocence.

"Who was that?" he demands. I look over my shoulder into the crowd again before tilting my head to the side and shrugging.

"A new friend," I answer. I can be vague. I can play his game. It may be out of character but everyone has their moments when motivated. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head to get a better angle on staring me down.

"What's his name?" he asks simply. The look on his face is careful, controlled. I chew a little on my bottom lip. It's a logical question. I should know my friends name. I tear my eyes from his and scan the near by walls looking for an answer.

"Uh, Vince. Why does it matter?" I quip. At least that's the name of the guy whose poster is hanging above Edward's head. He takes a deep breath before shaking his head.

"You don't just kiss random people Bella," he lectures. My mouth drops open at his gall. He can't be serious. How can he even….

"Are you kidding? I was saying hello. Right? Isn't that a perfectly normal way to say hello?" I ask briskly. My heart is racing and my words are clipped, short. His mouth falls open and he shuts it again quickly before licking his lips.

Why do I care so much? Why does it bother me so much? My mind races while I wait. Is this what its supposed to feel like? That elusive emotion that I'm afraid to label him with?

"To people that you know. Not to strangers," he snaps. I try to keep my breathing under control. I hate his rules.

"Well thanks for that clarification. I guess the next time I see Emmett I won't hesitate," I sigh. I thought he would have more to say, but apparently I just kissed the wrong person. Good to know.

"God damn it Bella, no. Not Emmett either," he hisses. His eyes are dark and I step back a little. My own anger rises again and I release a shuddered breath.

"So its really up to you then? You get to pick who I can and cannot kiss? Is that what you're saying?" I press. Because I'm never consulted when he uses his lips. He rubs his hands over his face before sighing.

"Yeah, I guess it is," he nods. I grit my teeth and turn my eyes down to my feet. Why the hell can't I demand the same of him? I just need to use the words. Even just ditto would work.

"You don't get to say that. If you can kiss 'friends' and 'people you used to know' then I can kiss whoever I want," I snap. Pride swells in me. At least its part of what I want to say. It deflates quickly because it gets me nowhere. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back for a moment.

"Fine Bella, kiss whoever you want. Just remember whose bed you're sleeping in tonight," he relents. I'm buoyed and sunken by his words. This got me nowhere. Now we're both free to kiss whoever the hell we want. That's not what I want. I lift my eyes to his just in time to see him leaning in and winding his hand up into my hair.

His lips meet mine forcefully our teeth clicking as he forces open my lips and thrusts his tongue inside. I grip onto his shoulders to stay standing. His tongue is cool and smooth, moving through my mouth like he has it memorized, maybe he does. My tongue meets his like greeting a familiar friend. This is why I don't want to kiss anyone else. No one else even comes close. Sorry Dimples. He tappers off kissing me sweet and slow before pulling away.

"Who kisses you better, BB?" he breathes onto my still open lips. I lick his flavor off and swallow.

"Who kisses you better Edward?" I reply. I'm sick of admitting how much I want him, need him. He's the one in limbo. I know what I want, who I want. And then everything falls into place. My mind is clear and I just look at him. Take in every piece of him in. He smiles slowly and my heart swells.

"Touché. Want a drink?" he asks. He takes my hand without waiting for an answer and holds me close, guiding me through the crowd again. He nods at a couple of people but doesn't pause and, thank god, doesn't stop to kiss anyone he knows. He pulls me into small makeshift bar, logos plastered over anything that's not moving and a couple of things that are.

"You want a beer?" he asks me. My stomach churns at the thought. I shake my head and he holds up a single finger to the person manning the tap.

His hand unwinds from mine and he places his hand on the small of my back, slipping his finger underneath my wife beater and tracing patterns on my bare skin. I lean into his touch and smile at the bartender who is watching us. He winks at me and Edward shifts even closer to me.

He tosses the money on the counter and turns us away from the bar. He settles at a tall table and I slide into the chair next to him, watching the crowd as he sips his beer.

Every tattoo that passes is different, unique. There are some repeats, but it's the story behind them all that makes them really interesting. I reach over and trace the numbers on Edward's wrist. Finn's birthday, I know without asking. How could I forget my favorite friend's entrance into the world?

"I want a tattoo," I breathe. The words shock me. They're true, but I didn't know how true until they slipped over my lips. It's part of the story I want and a small link to the man next to me. Whatever I choose would always in part be a reminder of him. And I want to wear a piece of him.

"Where do you want one?" he asks. He turns his arms over so I can easily access his skin and I trace my nails over the full expanse of bare skin. I look back into the crowd and observe.

"Somewhere less obvious. I don't need everyone to see it. But not something overdone," I ramble. Not my legs or my hands. Maybe my shoulder. I stretch my unoccupied arm out on the table and rest my head on it, using my vantage point to now exclusively watch Edward.

He reaches over and run his hand down my hair. I lean into his touch and he smiles down at me.

"What do you want to get? My initials?" he teases. I roll my eyes. He would love that. Me wearing his mark while he slobbers all over other girls and suddenly my resentment is back. I thought I had left that in the corner.

"No. Definitely not your initials. Nothing too big or ornate. I haven't thought about it a lot. I want it to mean something. Maybe a bird, or a flower or a key," I list. I haven't gotten that far in my thought process. I mull the list I just gave over in my head. The key standing out.

"A key. Definitely a key. On the back of your neck," he decides, his hand sliding under my hair to rest on that spot. I let my eyes slide closed and think it over. It's a good spot. Hidden, but not completely. Not overdone. It fits.

"Refills anyone?" I straighten and look at the bartender. The motion causes Edward's hand to fall from my neck. I shake my head and catch the look Edward is giving him. And then my resentment takes over.

"What's your name?" I ask. Both men's heads snap to look at me. I keep my eyes away from Edward and on the man in front of us.

"Nick," he answers adding a smile. I smile back and reach my hand forward. He chuckles before taking it into his own for a brief squeeze. I pull my hand back and lean over the table slightly.

"So how's work going?" I ask. Edward groans next to me, but I ignore the noise. Nick's eyes flit over to Edward before coming back to mine. I smile encouragingly. I need him to play along.

"Fine I guess. People here aren't much for tips, but I had a guy offer to give me a free tatt so it all evens out," he replies. I nod like I can relate, but really I can't. I've never been tipped or offered a free tattoo so I really don't know which is better.

"I'm Bella by the way," I offer. He nods.

"Hi Bella," he chuckles clearly not getting where I am going with this.

"So we're friends now right Nick?" I ask. I can feel Edward tense next to me as he starts to figure out what I'm doing. It's all I can do to keep my eyes and body turned away from him.

"Sure, why not?" he agrees. I smile and move from my seat at the table. My hand is shaking and in reality I don't want to do this. I don't want to kiss anyone else, but I have to be direct. Get what I want the only way I know will get results. Part of me wants Edward to stop me, to reach out and pull me back. His breathing is so heavy it's the only thing I can hear. By the time I'm standing in front of Nick, he's looking at me confused and I can feel the tension rolling of Edward.

This may not be the best way to get what I want, but I'm just hoping it works. I reach up on my toes and press my lips to Nick's. They're stiff and unrelenting at first touch, but he quickly opens his mouth slightly and moves his lips against mine. I pull back only to press up against his mouth again and this time he takes no time to react. His mouth starts to open and then something hits the table behind us…hard.

We jump apart and I look back to see Edward shooting fire through his eyes at my new friend Nick. He's already standing and moves quickly to my side to pull me even further away.

"Enough. Let's go. Now." He spits. He pulls me by my arm from the tiny bar and I glance back at Nick who looks grateful that he's being left behind.

"Bye Nick!" I call because I'm running on adrenaline.

"Bye Nick," Edward repeats, barely a grumble under his breath. The crowd seems to part for him as he pulls me towards the door. I guess this is not a corner conversation. I'm feeling empowered by his reaction and as we push through the main doors into the lobby I feel words start to bubble up within me.

"Is there something wrong?" I ask. I have to fight the smile off my face. I'm not scared at his intensity. Scared for Nick had we not left, but there's nothing scary about Edward. Unless you count his control over my happiness.

"Is there… yeah, no we're going upstairs," he growls. I smile at a few people walking by us who despite their hard appearances look genuinely scared for me. There's no need for them to be worried. I'm finally going to break him down. I hope. If not…I don't know if I can stand back any longer.

He hits the elevator button repeatedly and I can't fight back a chuckle.

"That won't make it come any faster. You might actually cancel out your original press and it may end up taking longer," I tell him. He glances over at me unamused. I watch the lights above the elevator tell me when it will arrive and listen to Edward's heavy breathing. I lick my lips, trying to get Nick's taste off them. Edward watches the movement carefully and I pull my tongue into my mouth hurriedly.

Dread creeps into my stomach as the elevator opens and he pulls me inside. This may go badly for me. I've never pushed him before. But selfishly I need more. I love everything about our relationship, all I need is peace of mind. I need to know that he's in as deep as I am. To know that one day a random girl won't wander into his bar and steal my protagonist away from me.

The elevator doors slide open again and I lead the way to our room, sliding the key card carefully and stepping inside. I ease into the room and settle on the edge of the bed and wait. Wait for things to end up heads or tails.

"Fuck Bella," he groans. He kicks his shoes off and they hit the wall, the noise causing me to jump a little. My thumb is at my mouth immediately and I feel a twinge of pain as I chew my nail knowing I'm getting close to drawing blood. I watch as he paces in front of me.

"We need to set some fucking ground rules. That was not fucking ok," he seethes. I take a deep breath and resist the urge to reach out and stop him. Instead I pull my legs up to my chest and sigh.

"I thought the rule was we could kiss whoever we wanted?" I interject. He stops his pacing and looks at me hard.

"Well you thought wrong," he breathes. And then he's pressing into me, his lips and his body. I lean back against the bed and he lies on top of me. His tongue presses into my mouth and I welcome the taste of him tinted with beer. He sucks on my tongue and I instinctively arch into him. He pulls away and I pant trying to recover.

"Nobody gets to do this but me," he breathes and dives back in taking my bottom lip between his and bites down gently. The sharp feel of his teeth a stark contrast to his soft lips. I moan slightly and weave my hands into his hair. His lips slow and he pulls away pressing his lips to my lips once more then my nose and then my forehead.

"Then you can't kiss anyone but me," I retort. He nods his affirmation and then slides his hands up my sides gripping me just below the swell of my breasts. His lips fall to my neck and he breathes me in heavily.

"No one touches you but me," he adds. His hands finish their trip and squeeze my breasts. I'm arching into his touch before I can think better and I reach around him to push my hand up and under his shirt, scraping his skin with my nails.

"No one scratches your back, sees your back but me," I amend. I don't know where this is going but at least every word is clear. There's no misunderstanding what we're doing here. He pulls me up the bed with him til we're wrapped up in each other in a way that I feel like we might be melded together.

My hands curl into his hair, pressing his forehead to my own and I graze my nose up and down his. I let my eyes slide closed and take in his expelled air. His hand grazes over my collarbone, between my breasts and down til he reaches my thigh. He squeezes there gently before hovering around the place where I crave his touch the most.

"And no one goes near the holy land but me," he states. I can almost feel his lips move against mine. His hand moves back up my body and I whimper at the loss. I squirm a little trying to ease the ache before settling into his hold.

"Should we write this down? Sign it in blood? Have it notarized?" I ask. He chuckles and rolls his body against mine. My eyes close at the sensation.

"Why? Do you plan on forgetting?" He asks. He presses his lips to mine before I can answer. "Because the next time you kiss someone in front of me I promise I won't be that calm about it." He seals his statement with a kiss making it feel official.

"I don't want to kiss anyone else, in front of you of otherwise. I just needed you to see, wanted you to feel…" My words aren't coming together, his touches taking the meaning away before it can leave my mouth. I sigh and grip tighter onto him feeling hot and bound in my clothes.

I unwrap my hands from his hair and reach down, popping open the button to my denim skirt and feel better already. I start to shimmy them off when his voice stops me.

"Wanted me to feel what?" He rolls his hips again and the denim that was previously masking the sensation is currently around my knees and I hiss at the pressure. "Like I wanted to rip off their balls and feed them to them?"

I chuckle a little and kick my skirt off before tucking my hands around him. I nuzzle my face into his collarbone and try to fight off the honestly rising in my throat.

"Feel like I felt when you kiss those girls. I needed to know if you felt like I feel before things got more involved," I answer. I know I could give him more detail but a tiny piece of me is still afraid of being dropped over the cliff I am currently teetering towards. And I really want him to pull me back.

"Tell me how you feel right now Bella." His voice vibrates in his chest and I press my ear closer. His hand trails back down and presses against the thin cotton keeping him from the holy land.

"I feel like I don't want you to be in anyone else's story," I sigh. He presses up again and I bite my lip to keep everything in.

"I want you in ours, in mine and Finn's," he breathes and my whole body goes on high alert. I grip myself to him and press my mouth to his and shove my tongue in his mouth. I don't even mind so much when his hand leaves the holy land to grip my face. I kiss him til I'm sure I would pass out if I didn't pull away.

"No one else. Just me and you. No other kisses, or touches, or stories," I stammer, still recovering from the kiss. I open my eyes and stare deep into his. He nods.

"Yours." And that word does it for me. Everything is in ink feeling permanent and I know this is important. One of those days you look back on years later, one of those stories you read to other people.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N t&a: here it is, **_**finally**_**—I know. I (a) do apologize profusely for the delay. Between being away and the chapter just not chilling ****with me, it took a while to get it out. Don't give T any shit.**

**Also, part of this chap was inspired by a scene in a Shiloh Walker book... can't remember the title right now.. just putting that out there.**

**Aside from that… we fucking love you. Seriously. All of you. Come**** play with us on Twitter.**

**We don't own—blah, blah, blah. Love you all extra hard.**

_You want three wishes:  
One to fly the heavens, one to swim like fishes  
You want never bitter and all delicious  
And a clean conscience and all its blisses  
You want one true lover with a thousand kisses  
You want soft and gentle and never vicious  
And then one you're saving for a rainy day  
If your lover ever takes her love away.  
_"Three Wishes" The Pierces

I had that dream again—the one where I'm on the beach by myself. I always have that dream. I'm always alone in it. Standing on the shore, waves lapping at my feet while I stare out at a sunset that is so beautiful it should, for all intents and purposes, be unnatural. The colors blend in soft, cotton-like clouds—purple and blue and pink while fading golden rays of sun warm everything.

I've had that dream for _years_. I've always been alone in it. Last night I wasn't.

Last night, Bella was in the dream with me. She was pressed into my side, her arm was wrapped around my waist and salty strands of her hair simultaneously warmed and tickled my back. And when she looked up at me her eyes burned a bright, golden brown.

I never thought I'd dream anyone into that dream with me. But when I woke up this morning with Bella wrapped around me, I couldn't even find it in me to… I don't know, be concerned that I'm having dreams like that when I haven't even slept with her.

I wrap my hand around the back of her neck as we walk down the sidewalk towards the convention. "You sure about this?" I ask.

She nods. "Yeah, I mean yes. Of course. I want to a lot, promise."

I squeeze the muscles there gently. "Not convincing. Wanna try again?"

She takes a deep breath before saying, "I'm sure. I want this." And then she gives me a small smile and leans up to press a kiss to my lips.

I smile and slide my hand down her back and into her back pocket. "You're sure you want a key?"

She reaches up and touches the skin on her neck where she wants it. "Yeah. I like the idea of it—like it could open things up for me."

I squeeze her ass once. I'm proud of her and how far she's come in the short time that I've known her. She's still shy, still sometimes seems like she doesn't really feel like she belongs where she is, but it's not often. "Aright. Let's do it." I hold the door open for her without taking my hand out of her pocket.

Yesterday pissed me off. I'm not jealous by nature. I'm an easygoing person. And yeah, I get where she was coming from. I get why she did what she did. I just wish she would've just _said _something to me rather than subjecting me to watching her kiss those poor excuses for guys. It pissed me the fuck off. But at least she got her point across.

I lead Bella to my friend Rosalie's stand. She's done a bunch of my tattoos and I think Bella will feel comfortable with her. I put both hands down on the table she's sitting behind and lean forward. "Rosaloo," I say with a grin.

She rolls her eyes and shoves my shoulder. "I haven't seen you in over a year and the first thing you do is try to piss me off."

I laugh and ruffle her hair before tugging Bella closer. "This is Bella. Bella, this is Rosalie."

Rosalie lifts an eyebrow and then smiles. "Hi."

Bella lifts her hand to her mouth, chews on her thumb for a second and then says, "It's nice to meet you. You have lovely tattoos."

"Thanks," Rosalie says and then looks back at me. "How's the kid?"

"He's good. Wants his own ink," I say with a small laugh and a shake of my head. Rosalie grins. "How's that meathead friend of yours?"

She rolls her eyes and looks at Bella. "I've been dating this guy David for four years and _this asshole,_" she says and points a finger at me, "still refuses to acknowledge that he's my boyfriend."

Bella smiles with wide eyes. "I'm sure he's just teasing. He likes to do that. He thinks he's funny," she says in a low voice.

I snort and pull her into my side. Rosalie laughs. "Sounds like you're trying to insult me," I say.

She looks up at me through big, innocent eyes. "I would never." And then she snorts.

I roll my eyes but can't help the smile that tugs at my mouth. "Bella wants a tattoo," I announce.

"Oh, yeah?" Rose asks and lifts a brow at Bella. "Do you know what you want?"

Bella bites on her thumb again and nods. "Yeah, a key. Not a regular ugly house key but one of those old ones. The pretty ones?"

Rosalie nods. "Yeah, definitely. You want to see some pictures?"

She nods eagerly and says, "Please. That would be so helpful. I mean, I know you're a friend of Edward's, but I'd like to see some of your work. It _is _going on my body forever. Doesn't exactly wash off."

"Of course. Gime a minute."

As Rosalie turns to grab a binder of her work and address some other people that have accumulated at her booth, I turn to Bella and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear before brushing my lips against it. "Rose did a bunch of my tattoos."

"She did? Which ones?"

I take her earlobe in between my teeth and pull her closer to me before turning my left arm over to show her the music on my arm. "She did this one." I slide my lips down her throat and then back up again. "And she did the flames on my shoulder."

She shudders and swallows hard. "Oh, I like those. A lot." And then her thumb goes back into her mouth.

I wind my arm around her waist and under the white beater she's wearing to rest my hand on her belly. "But I think we should hold off," I whisper to her, "and go back to the hotel."

She squirms in my hands and chuckles before pushing me away. "I don't want to lose the balls I built up for this. I really wanna do this."

"You don't need balls. I _really _like what you've already got."

She snorts and rolls her eyes at me. "I thought you were going to hold my hand. Don't you wanna be here when I get my first tattoo?"

I laugh and press my lips to hers. "I'm just playing with you. Rosabooboo, you ready?"

Rose shoots me a dirty look and opens the binder in front of Bella. "I've got a couple of keys in there. See if you like any of 'em and call me when you're ready."

Bella puts both hands on either side of the book so I lean over her and rest my chin on her shoulder. "That ones pretty cool," I say and point at a really old school looking key.

She takes a deep breath and traces the design with her finger. "Yeah, I like it. It's definitely the best one." She turns to smile nervously at me over her shoulder. "Let's do this. Before I chicken out, or throw up or something awful."

I laugh and run my hand down her hair. "You're gonna be fine. I promise."

Rosalie comes back over and asks Bella, "You all decided?"

She grits her teeth and nods. "Yeah, this one, on the back of my neck."

"Great. Let's get going. Come sit over here."

When she looks at me, I nod and squeeze her hand. If she wants it, I'm not gonna talk her out of it. And honestly, I really like feeling needed. I follow Bella to her seat and hang onto her hand as I sit on a stool.

Rose ties Bella's hair up. "I'm gonna transfer the stencil first," Rosalie says and gets to work. After a few minutes, Rose sits back and then starts shaving the fine hairs from Bella's neck. She hands Bella a mirror and the girl sticks her tongue out just a bit as she checks the placement. I should feel like a pussy for how much this girl makes me smile, makes me feel like I'm fucking glowing from the inside out.

The hum of the tattoo gun brings me back to the moment and to this girl. This girl who has crawled so far under my skin she might be more permanent than my ink. She's got this brave face on, but I know she's just about to shit her pants. And that's where I come in. My new role. Before Finn, I never wanted to be needed. The kid came along and I realized how good it feels to be essential to another person. With Bella though, the need goes both ways.

When she starts the tattoo, I rub circles on Bella's hand and make aimless conversation. I tell her stories, cause she likes that shit. I tell her about the first time I held Finn and I thought for sure I was going to either drop him on his head or squeeze him too hard. Her eyes light up whenever I say my kids name and it gives me a little high. So I keep on. Pulling out memories I had almost forgotten.

The humming continues in the background, a little accompaniment to my monologue. My eyes flick up to Rose, watching the progress, watching as alabaster and blood wipes away to reveal a new picture. I'm halfway through the story about Finn pissing on Emmett when he changed his diaper for the first time when Rose waves me towards her.

"I'm gonna take a peak," I tell Bella, pressing my lips to her knuckles. She nods shakily and it's all I can do to not chuckle. Her brave face is too fucking cute. I move behind her and take a closer look at the intricate key now laid across her neck. I can't lie, its hot as hell and I'm more than a little turned on that she wanted to do this, cause I know it has just a little to do with me.

"Looks good Rosaboo. I knew it would," I comment and Rose smirks. She wipes off the skin once more and leans in to start and then stops. She glances up at me and makes this sweeping motion with her eyes towards Bella. It's just a look, but I get her meaning. She knows. She knows I'm all wound up about this girl.

Her eyes glance around her before a slow grin crosses her face. The kind of grin that makes me uneasy, like she's plotting to kill somebody and burry them under my bar.

"You wanna give it a shot?" she asks. I know my grin is of the shit eating variety, but I don't care. I've always wanted to do this. I lean down and look Bella straight in the eye. She locks her wide chocolate eyes on mine and gives me a smile.

"Rose is gonna let me do a line or two. You cool with that?" I ask. I hope like hell she doesn't say no. Her smile widens and it makes her eyes sparkle. Jesus, I need a hit of testosterone after looking in this girls eyes.

"Yeah, you have steady hands right? I mean you're not going to slip and turn my key into something awful?" she rambles. I chuckle and press a kiss to her lips to stop them from moving, resisting the urge to taste that sweet little tongue. Later, I tell myself.

"I might as well be a pro my hands are so steady," I answer. She rolls her eyes and I know I have my go ahead.

I position myself behind her and try to have that steady hand I just told her I have. My finger taps the trigger and I smile as the hum traveling up my arm. There's only a small part left, a very small loop of the key.

"Just go slow and put good pressure on it," Rose coaches. I nod and lean in, I press the gun to skin and the girl moans. I almost fucking lose my shit. I lick my lips and swallow, following the stencil. Just as I'm about finished, I twist my wrist, adding a small embellishment.

I pull away, wiping and cleaning the skin and finally meet Rose's eyes. Her brow is raised so high it almost touches her hair. I smile sheepishly. She takes the gun from me and fixes a few places before cleaning Bella's neck once more.

Rose reaches out and taps my addition to the original design and questions me with her eyes again.

"Call it improv. All the greats do it," I answer. Then I tap a finger to my lips, pleading her to keep this to herself. I'll tell her, I will. But not now, later when she's feeling really warm and all lit up.

I pull Bella up and into my arms, kissing her soundly, before turning back to Rose. I rush the aftercare talk and the payment, not wanting to give Rose any time to change her mind and remember her allegiance to all women.

I just want this girl to myself. Need to feel her to come to life beneath my fingers.

x*x

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" I ask when we're back in the hotel room.

She reaches back and touches the skin before smiling. "No, it was so different than I thought. Like this intense heat. I kinda liked it."

The shy little smile combined with the faint blush on her cheek is so endearing. I curl my hand around her shoulder and tug her close to me before dipping my head and pressing my lips to hers. A small moan vibrates in her throat and I put my hands on her hips and pull her against me. One of my legs goes between hers and her hands tangle in my hair.

"I want you all the time," I whisper and pull away, holding her face in between my hands so that I can look into her eyes. There are traces of embarrassment and self-doubt there but not as much as there used to be. I turn us so that her back is to the bed and move us towards it as I slide one hand into her hair and slip the tip of my thumb between her lips. "I wake up hard in the middle of the night dreaming about you."

I kiss her again and reach for the hem of her tank top, pulling it over her head. I unbutton her jeans next and push them to the floor. She kicks out of them and then reaches for the hem of my shirt. I lift my arms for her and then stare down at her.

"Take off your bra," I tell her because as much as I like taking her clothes off, watching her do it with all of her shy, nervousness is infinitely sexier.

She lowers her eyes and reaches behind her, unclasping it and letting it drop slowly to the ground before peeking up at me again. "I want you all the time too. I would carry you with me if I could."

"Jesus." I reach for her hips and lift her up. Her legs go around my waist and her chest is right in front of my mouth. I slide one hand down to rub her pussy through the thin cotton of her underwear as I take one of her nipples into my mouth. Her head drops back and she tightens her hold on me.

I groan and lower her to the bed, pulling her underwear off before arranging her thighs so that they're spread wide. Her hair is fanned out all around her and she's chewing on her lip and staring at me through half opened eyes.

"You have no idea how fucking hot you look like this." I kneel in between her legs and run one finger through the puffy, wet lips of her pussy until I reach her clit. "I want to taste you."

Her eyes go wide and she wiggles her hips uncomfortably. Before she can say no, I lay down between her thighs and spread her open before drawing my tongue up the slit once before resting my chin on her lower belly. "Has anyone ever tasted you before?"

She shakes her head lazily on the pillow. "I never wanted to ask," she says quietly. "And it seems so personal, so intimate."

I slide two fingers deep inside of her, twisting my wrist and watch as her body arches up off of the bed. "You taste really good," I tell her and lower my head. She cries out when I take her clit between my teeth and suck on it, still pumping my fingers inside of her.

I'm glad no one has tasted her. I'm glad I'm her first. The idea of anyone's mouth on her makes me really fucking angry.

I place my free hand flat on her belly when she starts writhing beneath me and use my shoulders to keep her thighs spread. Her hands tangle tightly in my hair and then she cries out as she comes all over my hand.

I look up and her eyes are closed, her lips parted, her chest heaving with ragged breaths as little whimpers sound in her throat. I stroke her belly and whisper, "I love watching you come for me."

She opens her eyes slowly and smiles lazily at me. "That was kind of amazing. The kind of amazing that I wish I could rewind over and over."

"You don't need to rewind it," I tell her and crawl until I'm on top of her. "I'm not going anywhere." I lean down and press my lips to hers, grinding my hips against hers gently. "I'm gonna jump in the shower. You're welcome to join."

I don't want to ask her to get me off—don't want her to feel pressured or uncomfortable to do something—but my dick needs attention. As I step into the shower, I hear Bella moving around in the other room. After the water's at a comfortable temperature, I close my hand over my cock and start to pump slowly at first and then faster.

And then I look up and Bella's standing in the doorway. "Do you know how I often I've done this since I met you?" I ask her as her face flushes. "I think about you and this happens. Do you like watching me?"

I groan when she licks her bottom lip subconsciously and tell her, "I can't wait to be inside of you, Bella." I drop my head back and continue stroking my cock.

I freeze when I feel soft, small fingers on my knuckles. I open my eyes and groan again. Bella with her flushed cheeks and heaving chest is kneeling on the floor in front of me. She looks scared but I can't really tell because she's not looking up at me. She's staring straight ahead the way people do when they're trying not to see anything.

Her fingers wrap around the base of my cock and she slides them up and down slowly. After a few strokes, she leans closer. I groan and arch towards her. "That's it, baby, just like that."

And then she slides her tongue around the head of my dick. I tangle my fingers through her wet hair to urge her on. Hesitantly, she starts to move shallowly, following the rhythm until she finds her own. With her hand around the base, she strokes what she can't fit in her mouth. I groan and start rocking my hips against her.

I stare down at the messy, damp head in front of me. She's keeping her head low so that I can't see her face, just the top of her head, her back and her ass. Her mouth is like hot satin, sliding up and down slowly, carefully.

When she swirls her tongue around the head again before sliding slowly back down, every muscle in my body tenses. I tighten my grip in her hair and force her head up, just slightly, as I feel my orgasm start. "Look at me," I order roughly.

When her eyes meet mine, I shudder and push my cock a little further between her lips. "I'm gonna come, Bella." I try to pull away but she hangs onto me. And I swear as I explode in her mouth.

I drop down to my knees, wrapping my arms around her and tugging her close. I press my face to her neck and her arms tighten around me. "Where the hell did you learn how to do that?" I ask after a minute, squeezing her ass.

She chuckles into my neck, clutching me. "I may have done some research in the goody file. There are tons of blowjobs online. A very extensive database."

I groan and press my dick into her belly. "Did you seriously just say that? You're by the far the coolest fucking girl ever."

She looks up and gives me a wide smile before wrapping herself around me. I stand up holding onto her and turn the shower off before walking over to the bed. I pull the blankets back before lying her down. "I'll be right back."

I need a condom. Now. There should be one in my wallet. But I don't know where the fuck I threw my jeans before my shower. I finally find them under the bed and fish my wallet out.

With the condom in hand, I stand up with a victorious grin only to find her fast asleep, curled up on her side.

Of course.

I drop the condom on the nightstand and get into bed, wrapping my body around hers. She hums and then silences.

I should've listened to her when she said the tattoo wasn't sore enough for pain medicine.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N- t&a- As promised, a speedy update as a reward for all your patience and never-ending love. We say it a lot, but only because its true, you all blow our minds on a regular basis. **

**Thank you for everyone who has rec'd and retweeted, a special little piece of love for all of you. **

**You know the drill, we don't own, but we dabble in twisting and turning to make our own.**

_Closer, shadow, volume strikes_

_Still we're caught between all this sorrow, little shadow_

_To the night, will you follow me?_

_Hey, shadow, stars, break of dawn_

_Take a turn for stars, to my fantasy_

_Little shadow, to the night, will you follow me?_

_Little Shadow- Yeah Yeah Yeahs_

Excitement, peace, relaxation. That's what I normally feel when opening my laptop. Watching my wireless kick in and connecting to Facebook used to be the highlight of my day. The moment I looked forward to all day. Things are different now. Now I have a life away from this fifteen-inch screen. People who care about me, people who I can actually touch, smell, even kiss.

I twist my neck and hiss slightly at the pull of skin. It doesn't hurt anymore, but the skin under the ink is tight, making it a little painful to turn my head. I twist my hair up and away from the fresh tattoo. And yet I relish in the tiny amount of pain. It reminds me of the mark and the deeper meaning I find in it.

My hand reaches up and brushes over it and I know if Edward were here, he would insist that I put more cream on it, take better care of it. I know there's a problem when the simple idea of his name makes my lips curl into a smile.

Thoughts of the new characters in my life distract me from the now dreaded process in front of me. My eyes flick back to the screen and groan when I see the number of messages Alice has sent me, her tone starting with mild concern escalating to all out panic. I read her latest message several times.

_You had better be dead or have been kidnapped by a seriously amazing celebrity. _

The urge to roll my eyes is strong. As much as I want to play off her concern, it's founded in time and previous experience. I've never gone more than a day or so without logging on. Never more than a week without chatting with Alice. And it's been weeks since I've even opened this page. Real life can be distracting.

My fingers tap lightly on the keypad, not hard enough to cause any action. I can't ignore these people, they've carried me through my rut for years. Even if I've found life beyond my computer, it doesn't change the path I took to get here and the people who tolerated me along the way.

I need to reply, need to set Alice's mind at ease, I owe her that much. And I want to. Just because I'm adding more people to my story doesn't mean others need to get cut. And then the decisions made for me.

_Alice Brandon: am i hallucinating? it can't really be you._

I laugh and take a deep breath. My fingers move slightly slower than I'm used to. I'm out of practice and couldn't be happier about it.

_Isabella Swan: sorry about that. i promise i am alive and well. _

My legs twist underneath me and I instantly revert back to my normal position. This time, my eyes stay on the clock. I can devote a little time to this, to my oldest friend, but I now have someone else who will be waiting for me.

_Alice Brandon- you could have fooled me. where the hell have you been? don't tell me you're all wrapped up in that stray_

My teeth grit with her words. I didn't mind her making salacious remarks about Edward before, but so much has changed. Including his role in my life.

_Isabella Swan- things are different al. he's not what i thought he was._

It's a weak argument, but Alice isn't one to simply take my word for it and I need her to feel happy for me. She's the only person I have to tell my story to who isn't in it and I want her to be a cheering section, rather than a salacious critic.

_Alice Brandon- so he's not a bar rat with a ton of tattoos and a tendency to kiss anything with lips and tits?_

My breath catches in my throat. Is that really all I've told her about him? How could I so narrowly define him? Granted, in the beginning all I painted him as was a bad boy who chased after me. Did I ever mention all the kindness and warmth and care?

_Isabella Swan- maybe at first look, but he's so amazing al. i mean he's overcome so much shit and has this amazing little boy and i can't even begin to tell you how fantastic he is_

That's a start. It gives her a little more depth, a better look into the man that is slowly becoming the sun I revolve around.

_Alice Brandon- the stray has a kid? are you fucking kidding me? walk away now bella. walk away quickly._

My chest thrums as my heart races beneath it. These words even typed, not spoken, tear away a little piece of me. I feel like I've failed Edward and even worse, Finn.

_Isabella Swan- you don't know what you're talking about. finn is amazing al. all smart and charming and he's only three._

How can you put Finn into words? She will just have to meet him once. Have him offer her a sticky hand and lead her into his blanket fort. Then she will understand.

_Alice Brandon- don't be naïve bella. guys with kids are a bad idea. they come with crazy ass exes and baggage that no one can carry. add that to the bar and tattoos and loose lips…..nothing good bella._

There are no words. I've let down the two most important people in my life, let someone I care about, someone who matters to me, think horribly false things about them. What kind of representation of love is that?

_Isabella Swan- jesus al. he makes me happy. they both do. quit being so damn snooty and be happy for me. isn't this what you told me to do? go after him?_

I go for the heartstrings, use guilt and anything else I can think of. I can fix this. I can restore the hope that these two halves of my life can be merged. I clench my hands into fists and wait. Her reply is taking time and I hope it means she's hearing my words.

_Alice Brandon- i was telling you to go after a quick fuck. to try and live your life a little. not tie yourself down to a sinking ship._

This is getting worse by the second. How is that even possible? I should just log off and try to get rid of the grey cloud gathering over my head before I head to my date. But I can't shake the need to make her understand.

_Isabella Swan- that's not what he is, what they are al. _

I'm angry that is all I have to offer in defense of them. I know Alice and I know that when she's at a certain point, there is no talking her down. But I will chip away at this. When I don't have somewhere so much better to be.

_Alice Brandon- don't come crying to me when i'm right._

I slam the lid shut and my forehead goes to my knees, my fingers winding into my hair, forgetting that it is up. Several deep breaths later, I feel solid enough to stand. I roll my neck, smiling at the tug of skin.

I pull on jeans and a sweater, hoping that it will be good for playing. I've forgotten what you're supposed to wear to play. That is just sad.

The wind pulls at the loose stands of my hair as I walk towards the bar. Everything changed at the convention, but now we're back to real life. I haven't seen Edward since he kissed me goodbye on my doorstep and my stomach is in chaos. How does this work back in our lives? And then there's Finn.

I don't want to have to hide from him. Lying to him even a little would break my heart. But he has a mother. I don't know what my role will be, how he will feel about it.

The neon signs outside are still off so I reach up and press the bell. My legs feel confined in the denim, but it's a small sacrifice in the name of small friends. I'm earlier than I need to be, but certain things can only be done before the sun sets. The door bursts open and Emmett fills the space completely.

"Well, well, if it isn't Ed's little shadow. How you doin', pretty Bella?" he grins. He leans forward in a way that would have come off as suggestive if I didn't know Edward was in the room behind him.

"I'm fine, Emmett. Can I get by?' I ask. My mood is still deflated from my Alice confrontation and I need the two people just behind him to buoy me a little. He steps back and waves his arm in some grand sweep to motion me in. I take a deep breath and step inside.

Edward is sitting on the floor allowing Finn to draw on his arms with markers. The washable ink clashes and mixes with the more permanent marks. His eyes on are on mine instantly and the smile that stretches across his face fills me with right.

"Get your a-s-s over here and give me a kiss," he commands. His words pull Finn away from his art project and he looks up at me. His eyes grow wide and he drops his markers.

"Issybella! I knew you were coming. Daddy said that I was lucky cause I'm little so I get to play with you instead of playing with the thirsty people," he exclaims as he crosses the room. His arms wrap around my legs and I reach down and pull him into my arms, resting his weight on my hip.

"We are lucky. Thirsty people aren't very much fun. I'm hoping your daddy will let us go to the park," I tell him, my eyes flitting to Edward with the last part. He stands and heads towards us. When he's close enough, Finn stretches his arms out toward his father and I pass him off willingly.

"Daddy, can Issybella and I go to the park? Please? I'll keep hands holded and everything," he pleads. Edward chuckles and leans around his son to press his lips to mine. The kiss is quick and sweet. My eyes are on Finn as soon as we separate, anxious to see his reaction.

"Daddy. Stop it," Finn scolds. My breath catches. Maybe he doesn't want me with his father like that. My heart races thinking that this tiny person's opinion could be a deal breaker. Edward presses his lips to mine briefly again and Finn sighs exaggeratedly.

"Stop what, Huck?" he asks. Finn pouts with his lower lip and Edward mimics his action.

"Don't kiss Issybella. We're goin' to the park and she's here to play with me. You hafta play with the thirsties." Finn states. I chuckle under my breath. At least he's not completely against this. Someday we're going to have to explain to him the difference between our friendships.

"Are you trying to tell me that I can't kiss Bella, Huck? Huh?" Mock anger is painted all over Edward's face. "You think you can tell me what to do, big guy?"

His fingers dig gently into Finn's sides and the toddler squeals and twists in his father's arms.

"I get to play with Bella until you guys leave. Go see if Walt needs some water, Huck," Edward says as he places Finn on the ground. Finn races across the room and Edward shoots Emmett a look, to which Emmett groans and follows.

As soon as both of them are out of the room, I'm crushed to Edward's chest, his lips less friendly, more insistent upon mine. There's no hesitation as I open my mouth to him and twist my fingers into his hair. His tongue strokes mine and his hands creep up my neck. I wince as his fingers press into the sore flesh there. He tears his lips from mine.

"Is it still sore? Let me see it," he orders. He turns me slowly and I can feel his warm breath on my neck as he inspects the tattoo. Fingers gently trace the delicate design and a shudder slides down my spine.

"It doesn't hurt, but it feels a little tight. That's normal, right?" I ask. Everything with this process is new to me.

"Totally normal. It looks fucking sexy," he whispers against my ear, his lips brushing the shell. He turns me slowly and dips his lips to mine again. Everything is slower this time. He pulls away and my mouth follows a little.

"I'm glad you're here," he smiles. I smile back and run my hands over his shoulders and down his chest. I twist my fingers with his and reach up to tug his bottom lip between my teeth briefly.

"I know this is new and I'm supposed to act aloof and less interested to keep you guessing, but I'm horrible at pretending so I'm just going to say what I feel. I really miss you when I'm not here," I ramble. I'm not going to worry about the rules. Everything about this feel too right to be bothered by social protocol.

"You could just stay here, all the time. You could even quit your job and be my little love slave," he grins. I roll my eyes, but honestly, it sounds a little amazing. And that scares me. I should have more self-preservation than that.

"Somehow, I think you might get sick of me. Besides, I think you should be _my_ slave. It makes more sense," I offer. My cheeks flame with my words. He settles back into a stool and pulls me between my legs, holding me to him.

"How?" he presses. This is why I shouldn't try to be coy. He'll never just let something slide and the things that go through my head should not always fall from my mouth.

"It just seems like it would be more… fun?" I whisper, keeping my eyes anywhere but on him. I could reference a file in the 'goodies' folder, but then I would have to melt into a puddle on the floor. His hands slide down my back and slip into the back pockets of my jeans.

"We could try both out. I'm sure they've each got their own benefits," he agrees. Scenes I've only seen on my fifteen-inch screen suddenly flash through my mind with Edward playing the central role. My whole body flushes with heat.

"Issybella, Walt wants to come to the park too. Can he?" Finn breaks into the moment. I don't know whether to be grateful or mortified. I slowly pull out of Edward's hold and crouch down in front of Finn.

"I think I need both hands for you today. Maybe he can come next time?" I offer. I'm a little nervous about the outing. It's a lot of trust Edward is offering me and I need to deserve it. Finn nods seriously. A low whistle cause me to jump and then land on my ass. At least I wasn't far from the ground.

"That's some fancy ink you've got there, Shadow," Emmett comments. I turn to see him leaning against the bar next to Edward. I reach back and touch the skin again, still not used to it.

"We, I mean, I got it at the convention," I reply. Emmett's eyebrows raise and he glances at Edward, a devious look on his face.

"How was the convention?" he asks. His eyes stay fixed on Edward, so I take my time straightening up and latching my hand to Finn's.

"Go get your shoes and coat, okay?" I whisper to Finn, not wanting to miss Edward's answer. Finn nods enthusiastically and disappears once more.

"Same usual shit. Caren told me to tell you to stop being such a p-u-s-s-y just because you got caught on one of her piercings It could happen to anyone, Emmy," he chuckles. I want to laugh along with them but his answer stings just a little. Shouldn't he want Emmett to know? It can't be worse then me telling Alice.

"I'm ready, Issybella!" I've never been so glad to have a three-year-old tugging me out the door. Not that this has ever happened before. I avoid Edward's gaze as we slip through the door.

"Bye Daddy, love you always, always," Finn calls behind us. Edward repeats it back automatically. It's the first time I'm heard the sentiment and it tugs at me just a little. The door is almost shut when he calls after us.

"Hey!" I stop us both, even though Finn is trying to tug me forward. I turn back, keeping my gaze nonchalant.

"Don't have too much fun without me!" The door is shut before his words can echo after us. I'm careful about every step, carefully shielding Finn from the other people on the sidewalk. He's talking nonstop about a little girl who lives next door to his mom. Apparently she doesn't know who Harry Potter is and also thinks that dogs smell. He doesn't seem very impressed with her, but it might be a little crush.

We enter the park and the tension melts away a little. A fall in the grass is hardly as bad as concrete or asphalt. There are several dogs and children around us and I can feel Finn's excitement roll off him.

"Swings, Issybella! Can you push high high?" he asks. His fingers slip from mine and my chest tightens. I quicken my pace and scoop him into my arms before he can get too far. He squirms in my arms protesting.

"I'm a big boy, Issybella. Lemme walk," he demands. I breathe several times before setting him down, but keep his hand in mine. I drop to his level and look in his eyes.

"You have to hold my hand, Finn. Remember what you told your daddy?" I ask. His eyes widen and sparkle a little with moisture. I pull him to my chest and curse my inexperience with children.

"I'm ssssoryy, Issybella," he shudders. I shake my head and pull him gingerly towards the swings. He's quiet the whole trip and I place him on the swing and push gently at first. Before long he's giggling and I'm pushing as hard as I dare. Thank God children have such a quick bounce back time.

"Higher! Higher!" he pleads, but the last thing I need is for him to fly off and bring him home full of gravel. I grab the chains and slow him down. He gazes up at me questioningly.

"Why'd you stop me? You don't want to swing anymore?" he asks. I smile and pluck him off the swing, sit down and place him in my lap. It's been a long time since I've been in a park, much less been on a swing, but the pumping motion comes naturally.

Finn laughs constantly as we get higher. The chain kinks and tweaks as we reach the limit and I work to keep us there for as long as possible. His soft hair blows in the wind, tickling my nose. I stop the motion of my legs and let us slow down.

"So high, Issybella! Like flying brooms high, like magic," Finn breathes. I smile and press my lips to his hair softly smelling sun and grass. He slips off my lap and reaches his hand out to me. I smile at the gesture and let him pull me towards the slide.

I release his hand reluctantly and take my post at the bottom of the slide, waiting. His body flies towards me and I barely prevent him from hitting the ground. Instantly, he is out of my arms and clamoring back up the steps. He repeats the action until I'm tired from just watching.

He tires and we head back to the swing. I pull him back into my lap and we don't go very high. His head sags back against me.

"Issybella, can we bring Walt next time ,and maybe Daddy?" he asks. I smile at his simple request.

"Sure. Next time we'll all come," I promise. He nods his acceptance. His words flow then without censor.

"I'm gonna grow up and make a magic broom and then Daddy and I are going to go to Hogwarts," he informs me. I guess his grasp on fiction versus. reality isn't quite as solid as I thought. He _is_ just three.

"Can I come?" I ask. He nods and turns his face to grin at me.

"I think you're Daddy's bestest friend," he states. I swallow hard and clutch him to my chest. The sun sinks lower in the sky and I know we have to head back. I stand up and try to set Finn on his feet, but he goes a little limp and whimpers a little.

"I'm tired, Issybella. Hold me," he asks, reaching his arms up to me. I know my arms won't last the whole walk. I crouch down and smile.

"How about a piggyback ride?' I offer. He nods and climbs onto my back. I grasp his feet with one hand and reinforce his grip around my shoulders with the other. His hair tickles my neck as I walk, his body bouncing slightly with my steps.

Suddenly, one hand pulls out of my grasp and reaches forward to touch my tattoo. I know he's not shocked at the sight of ink, having seen and inspired his father's. The touch tickles and I resist the urge to pull away from it.

"'E' is for elephants," he states surely. I chuckle a little at his comment. Where did that come from?

"Do you see an elephant, Finn?" I ask. My eyes dart around looking for a poster or an ad with the animal. His fingers trace again.

"No, 'E' on your neck," he answers. I freeze at his words. Little kids can see things that aren't there. Like bunnies in the clouds and imaginary friends. I use these thoughts to calm my breathing. He wouldn't….

Finn's weight soon slumps on my back and the bar can't come soon enough. I obviously need to work up to carrying him, my arms not used to weight more than a five pound bag of flour.

The neon lights are now humming, but I know its still early. I use my hip to push open the door and see Edward moving up and down behind the bar, which is empty save for Emmett and Harold. My mind is buzzing with the possibility of my tattoo being more than I thought as I meet Edward's eyes.

"Hey." He smiles and makes his way around the bar to us and eases Finn off my back. Finn groans a little and nestles into Edward's neck immediately.

"You're big enough to walk, buddy," he tells him. Finn shakes his head and launches into an explanation, which includes going high like a broom and fast like Superman. I chuckle and glance over at Emmett. I ease away from the pair and sidle up to him.

"What you want, Shadow?" he quips. I swallow and make sure Edward isn't too focused on me. He's whispering quietly to Finn.

"I need you to be honest with me, Em," I request. Amusement dances in Emmett's eyes and I wonder if any of his thoughts are free from sexual innuendo.

"Hit me, pretty Bella," he states. I turn around so my neck is facing him and readjust my hair to give him a clear view.

"Is there anything odd about my tattoo?" I ask. He leans in and looks close enough that I can feel his breath. It doesn't cause the same reaction as Edward. That revelation tugs at my lips a little. Emmett chuckles.

"Hot damn. He branded you," he laughs. I press my lips together. I can't believe him. Emmett traces the letter and I can feel its presence. So that's what he did. Why he was so pleased with himself when he handed the tattoo gun back to Rose. I raise my eyes to Edward and he looks like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

I cross my arms over my chest and take several careful steps towards him. His eyes are wild and he clutches at Finn. I raise an eyebrow and sigh.

"Seriously? How long did you think it would take for me to figure it out? I can't believe you would do something like that, without me knowing! What if…you can't be sure…" My words are hissed and hushed as to avoid waking Finn. I don't know what to make of this. I'm torn between feeling pissed that he's marked me like a dog pissing on a fire hydrant and being the smallest bit elated he wanted such a permanent claim on me.

"Can't be sure…." He trails off and glances over at Harold and Emmett, passing some kind of silent communication. "Come upstairs with me?"

I want to say no, I want to throw a fit like a child. But when he asks me things and looks at me just that way, I can't say no. I nod my head and follow him up the stairs. He passes his keys back to me and I fiddle with the lock, letting him focus on the now sleeping boy in his arms.

I push open the door and flip on the light. He heads towards Finn's room and instead of following like I want to, I head to the couch and curl into the corner. I can't place my emotion, and it's making my head hazy and my eyes heavy. He appears from Finn's room and hesitates as he comes towards me.

"It's not like it really shows. It was more of an afterthought," he stammers. I've never heard him be anything but sure. That might be even worse. He put his initial on me as an afterthought?

"Are you going to tell me why the hell you thought that was okay? You could have asked or told me or…" I trail off in frustration. He runs his hands through his hair and moves to sink into the couch next to me. He doesn't try to touch me and I'm glad. I'm not sure what his touch would do to me at this point.

"Fuck. I don't know how to explain this. I didn't tell you because I thought you'd say no. I did it because, well, I can be fucking sure of some things," he breathes. His words aren't helping. They're tugging me in all directions. He peeks up at me through his lashes and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sure of this, of us. Even if we don't work out romantically, I'm sure we'll always be in each others lives," he states, his confidence returning. Part of his words are exactly what I want to hear, but to hear him even offering the possibility of us not working when we've only just started makes me ache a little. My mouth is dry and I don't know how to reply. This has gone from a hidden letter in my tattoo to ending our relationship. I take a shaky breath.

"So you put your initial on my neck because we'll always be friends? Like some adult version of a best friend necklace? Is that what this weekend equates for you? A life long friend?' I wheeze. The anger and confusion are at odds inside of me while the giddy little girl part is sitting back and watching the action.

"No, Jesus, Bella, of course not. God, don't you get it? I mean, do I need to spell out the way I feel to you? I want to be with you. You. Not anybody else, not as just your friend. And I want it to last for a long fucking time. But just in case you decide that I'm annoying or that it's too much being tied down to a single dad or that I smell like stale beer more often than not, I'll understand. I won't be happy about it, but I'll understand. I just want you to still be in my life. Either way. No matter what. Is that clear enough for you?"

His words stop my world. Everything just stops and nothing else matters outside this room. My mind can't even grasp onto what's he's saying to me. Those are the kinds of words I want engraved into my skin, written into my story over and over again until they become they only thing anyone remembers about me.

I uncurl my body and slip into his lap, tucking my head into his neck. My fingers weave into his hair and I mold into him, wanting to make him feel that I feel the same. I rub my nose against the side of his neck. The anger and confusion have been shut up.

"I'm sorry I always doubt you and that you always have to console me. I know that it's more likely that I will drive you away before you could ever smell like anything but comfort to me. And I love the idea of being in your life for a long time. I want to be in all your big moments," I breathe into his neck. It's the least I can offer him in return and it doesn't even begin to skim the surface of how I feel about him. He reaches around my neck and rubs the skin there, the feeling soothing rather than burning.

"But, there will be no more marking without permission," I try to sound firm and give him the eye. He fights a smile and nods his agreement.

"Sorry I didn't tell you about this first," he sighs into my hair. "I couldn't resist." I should argue more, make him feel worse, because heaven knows that its not ok for him to do things like this, but I'm overwhelmed by the feel of him. And it's not like I can do something like withhold sex. So I simply sigh and relax into him.

"I like it. It's like I can carry a piece of you with me," I admit. He smiles and tugs me even further into him.

"Yeah, I like it too," he adds. He tilts his mouth down to mine and I open instantly, wanting part of him inside of me. I let him take control, wanting to taste his apology and revel in it. He pulls away slowly, reluctantly.

"I need to head back down. Will you stay?" he asks. I nod, not needing to tell him that I brought my own pajamas and a toothbrush this time. More and more, this seems like a storyline and not just a plot twist. I don't know if either of them could be written out of my heart at this point.

~t&a~

**A/N- Wanted to do a quick fic rec this week as well. If you like darkward mixed with a little humor and a lot of hot, read….**

**Taste of Innocence by Nolebucgrl**

**I kinda adore it.**

**Til next time!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N t&a: Sooo, here is where the M rating comes in for real. we won't blabber but to say thank you, thank you, thank you as usual—you're all amazing and beautiful and totally fucking fabulous.**

**We don't own. Even though we wish we did. Because they would've done the dirty in book 1.**

_So now I'm feelin' alright  
Cause nothing feels like  
When you're holding on.  
I wanna treat you like you wanna be treated  
And I wanna see you like you wanna be seen.  
_"Holdin' On" Citizen Cope

**From: **ItsASecret

**To: **BSwan

**Subject: **Ransom

Bella,

Meet me at the corner of 1st and Jones at 7:30 tonight.

Don't tell anyone where you're going and don't bring anyone with you or I'll delete your Facebook account.

Sincerely,

You'll Know Who Later

x

I grin, hit send and slide away from the computer. That should give her something to think about for a little while. I want to take her out on a date. I want to feed her desert and drink wine and watch her eyes sparkle in candlelight. I want to see her smile. I want her to blush because she feels special.

I want her to have everything.

All of the plans for tonight are set. Finn is with Savannah. The dogs are with Emmett. There won't be any distractions. Tonight is going to be all about Bella.

I didn't expect the transition from single to not single to go as smoothly as it has. I expected to be turned off at the idea of being tied down—Finn and the bar seemed like more than enough responsibility. But there's nothing unappealing about my relationship with Bella. In fact, what I expected to hate about it—that is, having another person to tend to—is probably one of the things I like most about it.

Not that she's a chore but because she relies on me and I rely on her. It's just… really nice.

Granted, putting an _e _in her tattoo probably wasn't the greatest or most rational way of going about expressing the way I feel about her. Momentary lapse in judgment. That's not to say that I don't think it's the hottest fucking thing to have ever been tattooed on a person's body. Then again, my opinion's biased.

x*x

I lean back against the brick building with my hands in my pockets and look around for Bella. She responded to my e-mail earlier and asked what she should wear. I said nothing.

She comes striding down the sidewalk in a black dress that should be called simple but just isn't. It falls to the middle of her thighs and hugs the curve of her hips casually. The neckline is a simple scoop but makes her collarbone look more pronounced and her neck longer. And her face is framed by soft, wavy strands of chocolate hair.

She hasn't seen me yet. Her thumb is between her teeth. She looks unsure and honestly, was she really not entirely sure that that e-mail was from me? Because I'm going to need to send her to a class on Using the Internet Safely if that's the case.

Finally she spots me. Her eyes brighten and a slow smile lights up her face. Everything about her is so fucking beautiful.

When she's finally standing in front of me, I put my hands on her hips and smile at her. "Hi."

"Thank god it's you. I was pretty sure but there's always the off chance…" She takes a deep breath. "Hi."

"You should be more careful." The idea of anything happening to her because she's so sweet and naïve has my heart skipping a beat.

"I will. I am. I was 97 percent sure it was you. I really, really wanted it to be." She takes her thumb into her mouth again before leaning up and pressing her lips to mine.

I smile again and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "You look beautiful," I say and kiss her again. We're going to be late but I can't help myself when her lips are all shiny and pink. "Really, really beautiful. I should take you home and keep you all to myself."

She grins. "Are those your big plans? Have me meet you on a street corner just to take me back home?" she asks with a laugh.

I roll my eyes and take her hand in mine, tugging her down the street. "Let me assure you, _if _my plans were to meet you here and take you home, there wouldn't be anything small going on."

She chuckles and I'm glad I'm being so entertaining tonight. "Do I get to know these plans or are they still a secret? I'm a mean secret keeper."

"That's definitely great news," I tell her with a nod. "But it's still a secret."

Her arms goes around my waist and she snuggles up next to me. "I was really surprised. The best kind of surprised. I love that you did this."

"You have no idea what my plans are," I say ominously. "For all you know I could be taking you on a romantic walk through a cemetery."

She gives me her best bitch brow which I have to fight hard not to laugh at because there really isn't a mean bone or muscle in this girl's body. "Maybe I would like that." She pauses. "Who am I kidding? I would hate that. I'm the worst with scary movies and anything that looks like a scary movie set."

I laugh and guide her down a side street before stopping on a dock. Tied to the dock is a canoe. There's a picnic basket inside and a small battery operated stereo. The lake water is still and sparkling with the rays of what's left of today's sun. "Here we are," I say as we stop right next to where the canoe is tied up.

Bella looks between me and the canoe several times before launching herself at me and kissing me hard. I laugh against her lips at her enthusiasm and wrap my arms around her tightly.

"I'm going to get in first and keep it steady for you to climb in, okay?" I ask and squeeze her ass once under her dress before letting her go.

"I've never been in a canoe, but they seem so all American. We're not going to tip over, right?"

I laugh and step onto the boat. "This thing is really hard to tip. But it's just water anyway," I say with a shrug and hold my hand out to her. "Come on over here." She puts her hand in mine and steps hesitantly down onto the small boat. "You okay?" I ask once I've rowed us away from the dock.

"Yeah, this is amazing. I had no clue you were so… canoey."

I laugh and steer us towards the center of the lake at a lazy pace. "I don't think that's a word."

"Well, the point is, I'm impressed. And a little wooed. If that was the point."

I kick my shoes off and run my toe up her calf. "I might've been going for more than just 'a little wooed.' But we've got time," I tell her and give her a crooked smile. "How was your day today?"

She laughs and swats my foot away. "The same as every day, nothing of note, until I saw you."

The smile on my face widens. "I love that about you."

Her eyes widen and she swallows hard. "You and Finn are my highlights. I love that about the two of you. You make my life exciting, mentionable."

I put the paddles down and then wrap my hands around her ankles and pull her feet into my lap. I rub the soles of her feet with my thumbs for a minute before answering her. "You've always been mentionable, Bella." I press in a little harder with my thumbs. "Always."

She grins a shy, beautiful smile. "You should write greeting cards—you have the prettiest words."

I mock frown at her. "Greeting cards?" I shake my head. "Greeting cards inspired by B Swan. _'I'm so glad you were born. You have the tastiest pussy in the world._' You think that would work?"

She laughs loudly and kicks her feet a little bit. "I hardly think your Average Joe will want to give that to his sweetheart, but I wouldn't mind. Give it a shot."

I shrug. "I think it'd be a successful business venture. Are you hungry?"

"That depends… hungry for what?" she asks and lifts one eyebrow at me.

My eyes widen and if I wasn't sitting down, I'd probably fall on my ass. My shy little Bella just made a suggestive comment to me. I clear my throat and shrug again. "Anything. Whatever you want." And my voice is lower, deeper than I expected it to be.

She smirks shyly at me. "I think since we're on a lake, in public, I'll go with food for now. With the option of more, for later."

I laugh and reach down for the basket. "Elaborate on that," I say as I start pulling food from inside the basket.

She chews on her nail a little bit and I fight back my smile. "Well, it's always good to eat before having dessert—energy and everything. It seems to be quite strenuous most of the time."

"Having dessert you mean?" I ask and quirk an eyebrow at her. "Is a strenuous activity? Or are you talking about something else?"

"Figurative dessert," she says and huffs out an annoyed breath. "I hardly work up a sweat eating a cupcake. You know, the good stuff."

Christ, I love her like this. All forward but not forward. Using cupcakes to insinuate that she wants to have sex with me. Or… whatever, I don't know if she wants to have sex but I'm down to do whatever she wants to do. And I love hearing her tell me. "When I tell you, slide all the way over to the right, okay?"

She gives me a questioning look and then nods. I start to get ready to stand, nod to tell her to move over and then sit down next to her. "Is the view better of here?" she asks.

The boat rocks gently under our weight and Bella puts her hand on my thigh to steady herself. I cover her hand with mine before draping my arm around her. "I was getting a little cold over there."

She chuckles and leans slightly into me. "And I'm your blanket? That's a new role for me."

"I definitely wouldn't mind you laying on top of me."

x*x

I'm nervous. Isn't that a fucking trip? As if _I'm _the one losing my virginity tonight. Or, at least, hopefully losing my virginity tonight. But I'm not losing my virginity at all so I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. I'm nervous though. My palms are sweaty and I think my tongue is swollen because every time I try to speak it comes out all jumbled and fucked up and I sound like I'm drunk.

This is fucking ridiculous. I'm supposed to be the one in control. I'm supposed to be the one that's going to make this a really fucking good first time for her. And I can hardly keep my hands from shaking. What kind of man touches a woman with shaking hands? What if I jerk in the wrong fucking direction and hurt her?

But I feel like so much is riding on this. This is _Bella_. Awkward, beautiful Bella who says things like intercourse and walks for a mile with my kid on her back. _My _Bella. I should've had a drink. If I fuck this up then what? There's no round two to taking someone's virginity. There's no do-over. There's no, _"Hey, baby, practice makes perfect so if this _sucks _we can try again tomorrow."_

"Unless your door is a clap open, I'm pretty sure you need to use the key."

I jump when Bella's hand runs down my back. Maybe she can take me out shopping for thongs and tampons after I totally fuck this up since I'm acting like a fucking thirteen year old girl about to go on her first date. Do thirteen year old girls even go on dates?

I look down into her slightly worried, slightly amused eyes and shake my head. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

She laughs, kisses my shoulder and uses her own key to open the door. "Where are you? You're all wrapped up in some story in your head."

I shake my head and follow her into the empty apartment. "Ah, nothing." I smile at her and lock the door behind me before kicking off my shoes. "So, what do you wanna do?"

"No more grand plans? Was I supposed to plan something?" she asks through wide eyes with a small, coy smile.

I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and lean down to press my forehead to hers. "I figured we could just play it by ear at this point."

"I like playing it by ear," she whispers and tilts her head up slightly. "I have very good pitch."

I grin. "Is that so?" I ask and rub my nose against hers, tangling all of my fingers in her hair. "What's your ear telling you right now?"

She swallows and slides her eyes shut slowly. "On track I think," she says and leans up a little bit before pressing her lips to mine.

I drop my hands to her hips and pull her body towards mine, letting her lead the kiss for now. Her tongue darts out and probes at my lips so I open for her. She swipes inside of my mouth before pulling away and licking a line up my jaw. I groan, tighten my hold on her and walk us towards my bedroom.

I press her up against the wall right next to the bedroom door and rake my teeth down her throat before lifting my mouth to hers again. This time my tongue goes into her mouth.

I pull back and put my hands on either side of her face. "Do you know how badly I fucking want you?" I ask her and my voice is low and sort of raspy. "You're going to have to tell me now if you want this. I'm not gonna be able to stop if we go any further."

"Yes," she whispers with a nod. "This is so much better when I'm not drunk." She looks down for the last part, mumbling the end of it.

I grin and wrap my hands around her thighs and hoist her up so that she's pressed between my body and the wall. I rub my cock against her. "I told you it would be."

I leave warm kisses all over her face before taking her mouth again. She writhes against me and rubs her chest against mine.

"Sshh," I mumble against her lips when she moans and starts writhing even more frantically. "Let's take our time." I can't take my time, I can't take my time. I have to take my fucking time. I wrap my arms tightly around her and turn towards the bed, setting her down on it.

She looks up at me and touches my face as I lean down and wrap my fingers around the hem of her dress. "I just want you," she says softly. "However it feels right."

I groan before I even realize I'm going to and run the backs of my fingers down her cheek. "You're sure, right?" I ask and crawl on top of her until she lies back on the bed.

"If I knew other languages, I would tell you yes in them too."

And that's as much confirmation as I need. I kiss her again, sucking on her lower lip as I fumble to unlatch her bra. I rub my cock against her belly and tug the straps of her bra down. I feel desperate and frantic and like there isn't enough time to do everything I want to do to her, with her.

"I want you so badly," I mumble and drag my lips down her neck. "Every minute of every day." I pull her bra away and throw it across the room before taking one hard nipple in my mouth, sucking on it hard.

She cries out and buries her fingers in my hair as she arches up towards me. I knead the other one with my hand, tugging and pinching her nipple until she's moaning and writhing beneath me. I switch sides, giving equal attention to her other tit before dragging my mouth down her belly.

"You're so beautiful," I tell her as I tug her underwear down her legs. "And you taste so good, Bella."

With one hand on the inside of each knee, I press her legs open. I lick my lips before lowering my head and pressing my mouth to her, slipping my tongue inside of her. Her hips buck and her fingers fist in my hair, holding me tightly to her.

I lift my head and look up the length of her body. Her head is tilted back, her eyes are squeezed shut and her bottom lip is between her teeth. "I want you to be mine," I say gruffly and climb back up her body, shedding clothes as I go.

She wraps her arms around me and says, "I already am."

I fit my thighs in between hers and rest my cock between the wet folds of her pussy. "You have to tell me if this hurts." She nods with her eyes shut. "Bella," I say firmly and wait until she looks at me. "If it hurts tell me."

She bites down on her lip and nods up at me. I roll a condom on and position myself at her entrance. "Just relax, okay?" I lean down and kiss her, bracing most of my weight on one elbow as I use my other hand to guide my cock inside of her.

She's so fucking tight. Jesus Christ. When I'm halfway in I realize that I'm not breathing and that her eyes are squeezed up so tightly her lids are wrinkled.

"Bella." Her name comes out like a gust of air. "Are you okay?"

She nods without opening her eyes or even relaxing her lids. "Bella, baby, please stop making that face," I groan. "You look like you're giving birth to a hippopotamus."

She opens her eyes and takes a couple of breaths before smiling at me. "I'm good. Promise."

I nod and pull out slightly before pushing back into her. There's no resistance and for some reason I remember her comment about popping her cherry on a bike and I want to laugh but I think if I take my focus off of not pounding into her and losing my shit, this'll be over a lot faster than I want it to be.

Once I'm fully inside of her, I don't move. This takes a lot more effort than I ever thought it would. "How are you doing?" I ask because she's back to squinching her eyes shut and biting down on her lip.

She runs her hands over my face and then down my back. "I want you too. I want this with you," she whispers. "Keep going."

I pull out and then slide slowly back inside of her. And mother fuck she's tighter than anything I've ever felt before. Tighter and warmer and wetter and I'm going to lose my shit like a fourteen year old boy no matter how hard I try not to.

"Jesus, Bella," I groan and press my face into her neck. "You feel so good." I slide in and out of her and her walls clench around me. "So, so fucking good, baby."

I press my lips to hers and reach between us to rub her clit. I need her to come. I'm not going to last very much longer. "Bella," I groan against her lips. "Can you come for me, sweetheart?"

She bites down on her lip with enough force to turn the sensitive skin white. And I know what her answer's going to be. If it were possible, I'd kick myself in the balls to hold off my orgasm.

"I can't," I groan. "I can't wait. You feel too good."

She leans up and takes my earlobe between her teeth before whispering, "I wanna feel you come, please."

She said please. Fuck. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my forehead to hers. Every thrust makes me feel like an asshole but I can't hold it back anymore. I come with a low, grumbling moan inside of her and then basically, like a good for fucking nothing oaf, collapse down on top of her.

"I'm sorry," I whisper against cheek. "If that sucked. I'm sorry."

She kisses each of my cheeks and then my lips. "It did not suck. At all."

I pull out of her even though I don't want to do anything but sleep right now. "You're going to come for me, Bella." I slide off of the bed and throw the condom in the trash before climbing back on top of her. "Over and over again." And then I slide back down between her legs.

I spread her out wide and take her clit between my teeth before flicking it with my tongue. She cries out and arches her back, hips bucking off of the bed and against my face. "Edward," she groans.

"Touch yourself," I tell her and then flick my tongue against her clit again as I slide two fingers inside of her, twisting and pressing against her G-spot.

I watch as she takes her tits in her hands and groan as she pinches and rolls her nipples. The vibration of my groan obviously sets her off because she starts thrashing and crying out.

"That's it, baby," I mumble and pump my fingers faster in and out of her. "Come for me."

"Edward," she whimpers over and over again, watching me through half shut eyes and then her body tenses as her orgasm takes her.

She drops limply into the bed, chest heaving with her eyes shut. I crawl back up and pull the covers down around her. I press kisses to her collarbone, up her neck and then all over her face. "Come under the covers with me," I whisper and rub my cheek against hers.

She mumbles incoherently and I smile lazily against her face. When we're finally under the covers I pull her tightly against me. "It'll be better next time," I tell her.

She snuggles even closer and takes my face in her hands. "That was exactly what I wanted. And I hope there are lots of next times."

"Are you sure?" I tease even though her words ease my anxiety. "You're not gonna go and complain to your Alice about how I couldn't get you off?"

She rolls her eyes and I laugh. "Here, this, us is not for anyone else. This part of the story is special." She kisses me sweetly.

I tighten my arms around her. "And I guess I did get you off, huh?"

She nods into my neck and starts to scratch my back. "It was perfect. Perfect for us. So much better than having someone else's artificial moment."

"Good. Can you do that until I fall asleep?"

"As long as you want. Forever if you'll let me."

I grin and hug her tighter before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Good night, Bella."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N- t&a- This officially marks (hopefully) our return to our updating schedule. You all continue to just amazing us. The amount of love and support you give astounds. Thank you isn't sufficient. **

**A special thank you to every one who participated in the read-along tonight! We loved hearing all your favorite parts, brought the story to life for us.**

**Once again, we don't own, if we did we would live like recluses in a cabin somewhere living off wine and love….**

_I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map_

_And knew that somehow I could find my way back_

_Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too_

_So I stayed in the darkness with you_

_The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out_

_You left me in the dark_

_No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight_

_In the shadow of your heart_

_Cosmic Love- Florence + the Machine_

There are a lot of things that are over-talked in life. Things like getting really drunk; not that fun especially the next morning, trips to Mexico; Montezuma's revenge is a real thing, and let's be honest, even Disneyland; people dressed in large fur costumes trying to assault you is not something my dreams are made of.

But, sex, more specifically sex with Edward is not one of those things. After years of taking my….pleasure into my own hands, literally, I assumed that sex would probably be a lot like that list. I couldn't be more happy about being wrong. Even weeks later I can't really comprehend it.

And just like that my story turns from a drama/romantic comedy of sorts to a trashy novel. It can't be helped really. I have years to make up for.

I ghost my fingers over the keys of my computer and listen to the woman on the other end of the phone tell me a detailed history of her weight loss and gain. After she started talking about the mid-90s I complete zoned out. Who wants to think about her love affair with stretch pants when I can think about Edward?

The slow tingle starts again and it's all I can do but groan. There has to be a way to not feel this way anytime I am not with him. The woman pauses long enough in her tribute to cheesecake for me to break into her story with my scripted lines. The familiar guilt takes over as I take her credit card number. I need to find a new job.

I hang up the phone and roll my chair towards the window and watch the door I wish I were on the other side of. I had so many intentions of filling my story with amazing things when I was in college. Dreams of traveling the world and discovering the most fantastic art. And then there was reality.

Apparently art history majors are in as much demand as snails. I sigh and lean my forehead against the window. While my plans for a brilliant career didn't pan out I couldn't have dreamt up my….relationship status.

The need to restrain my bubbling feelings springs up again. I've only known Edward a few months, been dating, seeing each other, little over a month. That's not enough time to feel the way I feel. Not enough time to want to camp out in his bar just to be near him. Not enough time to feel so attached to his son that I actually might have thought about taking him to the rest of the Harry Potter movies. Right?

Finn is another issue all this own. I never had much thought about having my own children. I figured I would deal with that when the desire arose, but I can't help but be attached to him. It doesn't help my fight to stay in a less dangerous emotion zone.

My phone rings again and I slump into my seat before rolling back to my cubicle. It's a horrible system where people who don't have the good sense to ignore infomercials are thrown into our webbed dialogue that preys on people's desire to be better. I REALLY need a new job.

The morning slips away quickly and I slam my phone down just before noon and let my eyes dart over to Mike who actually seems to like this job. That doesn't say very positive things about him. My cell phones bounces along the cheap surface of my desk as it vibrates. I stare down at it and the unfamiliar number on the display. Anxious to speak to anyone who doesn't want to buy diet pills I snatch up the phone.

"Hello?" My eyes dart around making sure no one who would care is watching.

"Shadow?" The voice isn't as familiar as the nickname. I can't suppress the smile that stretches across my face. Even Edward's friends have that effect on me.

"Emmett?" I don't really need the confirmation, but it feels like the logical thing to say. I expect him to chuckle or something, but all I hear is ragged breathing.

"Shit Bella. I don't know what the fuck to do. It smells like rotted shit in here and there's puke all over and good lord," Emmett trails off. I try to piece his clues together in a way that doesn't make my heart slam against my chest and my heart swell with worry. Nothing is coming.

"Slow down Emmett. I can't make sense of what you're saying. Is everything ok? Is Edward ok?" I demand. Panic doesn't settle well with me and it doesn't help that I haven't seen Edward in two days. Not that he didn't offer, but I'm trying to fend of my need for him and give him and Finn alone time. I figure they need it once in awhile.

"There are two boys over here heaving their guts out and I tried to play nurse, but I am not cut out for this shit and Sav is stuck at the hospital. Please for the love of everything holy come over here and save me," Emmett pleads. The picture becomes a little clearer. Sick. My boys are sick. I stand instantly and shove everything back into my purse before winding my way towards the office.

"I'll be right there Emmett. Just don't do anything to make them worse and don't leave," I command. I flip my phone shut and knock lightly on the office door. I open it and beg off some excuse about female problems. My male boss looks slightly mortified before demanding I leave.

The trip across the street is quick and the door to the bar is propped open for me. When I make it to the top of the stairs, Emmett is sitting outside the door to Edward's with his head propped in his hands. Walt and Nemo are sitting next to him looking just as worse for the wear.

"There is a reason why men aren't in charge for all that nurture, take care of people shit," Emmett groans. I roll my eyes and move to pass him. He reaches out and grips the bottom of my skirt.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he states. I kick his hand away and open the door. The smell of sick is everywhere. I tug my turtleneck up over my nose and ease my way around the destruction that has become Edward's apartment.

I stall at the bedroom door and steel myself. This is when you prove yourself, become more than a physical partner. The knob twists and I walk into the dim room. The smell is stronger in here and the mess is worse. There are towels and clothes strewn all over the room. I can see two bumps under the covers, neither one is moving.

They seem to be fine for the moment so I grab Edward's laundry basket and try to gather up the mess. I blow the bangs out of my eyes and try to breathe through my nose. The work moves quickly and I shove it all into the washer and dump as much detergent as I dare without worrying that it will overflow.

My mind goes into overdrive s I try to remember what my mother did during these situations. I lean into the counter and remember sports drinks, toast and baths. I glance towards the door and wonder if Emmet has skulked away yet. I pull open the door to see Emmett still hunched against the wall.

"I need you to go to the store," I tell him. He nods up at me and I ramble off the list insisting he take the dogs along. The last thing I need is for Walt or Nemo to try to lick up something that Edward or Finn….expell.

I suck in a few clean breaths before heading back in. The route to the bedroom is easier now that there isn't anything littering the floor. I crouch down next to the bed and sweep my fingers across Edward's forehead. It's wet with sweat and he leans a little into my touch.

"Momma?" Finn's voice breaks me from Edward and I rush around the side of the bed. His eyes are heavy with fever and sleep as I settle softly next to him. He snuggles into me instantly and I can't help but run my fingers through his hair.

"Issybella? I don't feel good," he whines. I nod my head and my brow furrows. I glance towards the bathroom door and wonder if I can carry him without dropping him. I slip my shoes from my feet and settle around Finn.

"I know buddy. Being sick is not fun. Do you want me to do anything?" I ask. Not that I really expect a sick three year old to tell me how to cure him, but it seems like the nice thing to ask. He groans and whimpers and my heart breaks a little.

I sit there for a little longer and rub his back slowly hoping it offers some comfort. He settles back into a restless sleep and I slip away to start the bath. I sit on the edge of the tub and pull of my turtleneck. The tank top offers a little less heat.

When I reenter the bedroom Edward is slightly propped up against the headboard, his eyes shut.

"You should lay back down. Rest," I tell him. He squints open one eye, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"You here to play nurse baby love?" he croaks. His face winces at the noise. I roll my eyes and shake my head. He lifts his hand and curls a finger towards me. A sigh escapes before I follow his request. I keep my distance settling at the foot at the bed.

"I can't believe that even sick you think with your….smaller head," I answer. He chuckles and then coughs. I inch closer waiting for his coughing to pass. Before I can stop him he grips my extended wrist and pulls me towards him.

"How did you know to come?' he asks as I settle against his chest. I should be worried about getting sick, spreading germs, but I don't care.

"Emmett called me," I answer simply. I feel him nod above me. As I start to relax against him, I remember the bath. I swear under my breath before slipping from his arms and back into the bathroom. The water is just under the lip of the tub and I release a shaky breath as I turn it off. The last thing I need to do is to flood the apartment in my attempt to 'play nurse'.

I dip my fingers into the water and test the temperature. It's a little hot, but will cool. Heading back into the room, I kneel next to Finn. He breathes heavily and I run my hand down his back. This will not be as fun as the baths I've helped with the past.

"Hey buddy. You want to take a bath?" I ask. He shakes his head into the sheets and groans. Usually baths only work with the lure of innumerable bath toys and scented bubble bath.

"I know, but this is a special magic bath," I whisper. I hear Edward chuckle and mutter something about him wanting a magic bath. Finn perks up a little, allowing me to slip my arms under him and pull him into me. Hs feels heavier and I take each step slowly.

"Magic, Issybella? What kind?" he whispers. I smile and try to make a bath seem like something out of a fairy tale, but I never claimed to be an author, just a meddlesome character. His damp clothes get thrown into the now empty hamper and when I lower him into the bath his whimpers turn into sobs.

"Sweetie, I know it doesn't feel very good, but that's the magic. It's trying to make you better," I soothe. He nods limply and I do my best to rinse all the sick off of him before pulling him out and into a soft hooded towel. I lift him back into my arms and begin the trek to his room.

"Bella, you don't have to do that," Edward calls as we pass him. I give him the stink eye and he lowers himself back into the bed. If there were some kind of medal for dressing a sick toddler I would win at least the bronze. I pull the superman shirt over his head and let him curl into me again.

"You want to go back to your daddy's bed?" I ask. He nods sleepily. I pick him up once again and swear that I will pick up weight training, one day. As we cross the living room the front door opens and Emmett appears, his arms full of plastic grocery bags.

"I didn't know what flavor? Do you even know how many flavors of Gatorade there are?" he snorts. I motion for him to put them in the kitchen.

"Thanks Emmett. Can you keep the dogs?" I ask. Pausing is really testing my muscles.

"Anything to keep me out of this place. Thanks for coming Bella," he says as he slips back out the door. I sigh and enter the bedroom again. I hesitate before slipping Finn back into bed, I really wish I could change the sheets, but that's just not going to happen right now.

"Yeah, thanks for coming Bella," Edward says echoing Emmett as I pull away from Finn. I place my fingers over his forehead and am relieved that he feels cooler. I sigh and sink into the floor, my arms burning.

"There's no way I wouldn't have come," I answer. I can't help myself from making my way around the bed and back beside Edward. I slip in behind him, curling my body around his. His hands cover mine over his chest and he sighs. Slowly, I ease one hand away from his grasp and push in under the back of his shirt, easing my fingers over his heated skin.

"This isn't what I thought we'd be doing the next time I saw you," he sighs. I kiss the back of his neck and keep my fingers moving. He shudders through a cough and I pull myself even closer.

"You want anything? I had Emmett run to the store and get some things. Gatorade? Toast? Anything?" I ask. I don't think that they are sick enough to need to go to the doctor, but I feel helpless, like I should be doing more. He presses back against me and sighs.

"Just you Bella. I only need you," he sighs. His words make my throat sticky and I shudder a few breaths before resuming the movement of my fingers. This is the feeling I don't understand. The feeling that seems to be too early. The warm tingle and glow I feel when I'm here. The way his words fill and fix me like nothing I've every experienced.

His back rises and falls steadily and I know he's asleep. I prop myself up on my elbow to look over Edward to check on Finn. He scooted across the bed and is curled into the front of Edward. Just the sight constricts my chest.

Love. Just thinking the word worries me. I'm sure that uttering the word out loud would be out of turn in the story. That cueing the emotion to early could create a schism in this story that I might not be able to fix. So I choke the word down. Content to have defined the warmth.

The night is long. Finn seems over the worst of things, only whimpering and needing water, but Edward… Edward wakes up at least three times to empty his already empty stomach. I lean over his back and rub over and under his shirt trying to offer some kind of comfort. He groans and tries to push me out of the bathroom, but I ignore him.

After he felt he could stand I would guide him back to the bed and wipe down his face with a damp cloth before wrapping myself around him again. There wasn't a lot of sleep involved for me, but I couldn't care less. I finally felt like I was giving something tangible to them, to the people who had completely revised the plot of my life.

By the time the sun rises, I abandon every hope of sleep and make my way to the kitchen, hoping that they might be able to hold something down. Edward hasn't bolted for the bathroom since around two, which I think is a good sign. I turn on the coffee pot and try to find a toaster.

I lean against the counter and let my eyes slide closed. The turning of the latch jerks me from any kind of rest. My heart hammers in my chest as I watch the knob turn slowly. My eyes dart around the room hoping Edward has some kind of ridiculously large knife somewhere close.

A blonde head pops through the door and I am frozen. She enters slowly, pressing the door closed softly. The way she slides her bag and jacket to the floor shows a sense of familiarity that doesn't match a murderous robber. Her eyes wander the room slowly and they fall on me she matches my frozen stance.

"Um, not really sure what to say here. I'm Savannah, Finn's mom," she offers. I crumple a little. I should have known. Any tiny pieces of Finn that don't match Edward are in her face. She approaches me with a smile and I take in her scrubs and sneakers. I try to smile, but I don't know if my effort even works.

"You're Bella right? Or I guess I could call you Issybella? I think my son might be in love with you," she laughs. The sound releases me from my panic and my face relaxes. Finn does that to a person.

"The feeling is definitely mutual," I reply. She stops just shy of me still grinning. This is the woman who mothered Edward's son. Jealousy boils over and I hate myself for feeling that way.

"So how were they last night? I felt so bad when Emmett called, but I've been getting a lot of great shifts lately and I knew I needed to put my time in," she explains. I nod like I have half a clue about being a nurse. I turn away and busy myself with the toaster. Why can't I just be normal? Probably because I don't know her role in all of this.

"It was fine. I think Finn is over the worst of it. Hopefully Edward is getting there too," I answer simply. She moves next to me and leans her hip against the counter. Her eyes watch as I slip a few pieces of toast into the toaster and then twist my tank top in my hands. Thank god I didn't change into something of Edward's.

"There's no reason for you to be worried about me. Edward may be more crazy about you then Finn, and that's saying something," she sighs with a smile. I glance at her again, looking at the circles under her eyes. I feel like the devil.

"I'm not worried. Not that I see you as competition or anything like that. I don't really know how to do this or what I should say," I ramble. I swallow hard and keep my eyes on the counter. I want to be on good terms with her. I would love for her to like me. Why the hell am I screwing this up? My eyes start to tear, the lack of sleep combining with the stress of this situation.

"Hey, it's ok. I know that this is awkward and that there aren't scripts for this kind of thing. I just want to thank you for taking such good care of my little boy. Tonight and every other time he comes home raving about you," she offers. I turn to look at her and smile. The tears stay at bay at least. I take a deep breath and try to regain sanity.

"I love being around him. So, thank you," I reply. She smiles again and reaches into the cupboard and pulls down two plates. She fills the silence with random stories from work as we assemble breakfast. I nod and offer small comments when appropriate, but am glad she seems happy to let me remain silent.

We each take a plate and make our way towards the bedroom, just before we enter she pauses.

"I'm going to say this just because I have to, be good to him. He and I were never cut out for more, but I really want him happy. You make him happy, so don't screw that up," she states. It's the most serious she's been, but I don't take her words lightly.

"Not going to be a problem," I assure her. She smiles and then enters the room. I place my plate on the nightstand next to Edward before easing back out of the room. I figure they could use some time together. The living room seems empty without them, so I drop into the couch and pull one of Finn's blankets over me.

The soft lull of voices drift in from the next room and I feel my eyelids droop. I snuggle deeper into the couch, turning my face into the cushion trying to find Edward's smell there. A shuddering breath later and the only thing I feel is calm.

Something is moving up my leg, I pull my knees closer to my chest to avoid the tickling touch, but it persists. The fog of sleep parts slowly and I peel open one eye slowly to see Edward hovering over me.

"You should be in bed," I scold. He rolls his eyes while pulling me far enough from the couch to slide in behind me. His skin is still damp and the scent of his soap clings to him. I shudder a sigh as he curls around me.

"I don't wanna sleep without you. Why didn't you come and sleep in my bed?" he asks against my neck. His lips brush my tattoo and he flicks his tongue out against it. I groan without thought.

"I thought maybe you'd want some time with Savannah or she would want time with you guys. I didn't want to intrude," I answer. He sighs, his breath tickling my neck. I squirm a little and he grips my hip to hold me still.

"Ok little girl, as much as I would love you to grind your little ass on me, I don't think I'm quite ready to follow through yet. Shit it sucks to say that," he groans. I chuckle a little

"And what the hell? Intruding? How the hell could you intrude? You spent the night elbow deep in my puke and Finn's fever," he scolds lightly. I shrug. It's hard to explain. Savannah and Edward, they share something he and I don't. I can't compete with that.

"Where are they?' I ask. I was too consumed by Edward to notice them. He presses into me.

"They left. Don't change the subject," he replies. I pout a little. I hadn't thought about the added benefit of distracting him. I chew on my thumbnail a little.

"Yeah, but she's Finn's mom. I thought maybe she would, I don't know Edward," I huff. Edward's arm tightens around me and my eyes slide closed. I have no clue how long I slept, but I feel like I could sleep more. And then I remember. Work. I jump from Edward's arm and dash across the room fishing for my phone in my bag.

"Please please please," I mutter as I take in the time. 9:17., definitely late. I dial my boss's number and my foot taps uncontrollably as I wait. He picks up and I don't let him say much before I start stammering about not having used a sick day since I've been there and still feeling under the weather. He simply reminds me that I am to call earlier in the future and hangs up.

I slide down against the wall til I hit the floor. My little burst in adrenaline has worn me out again. I glance up at Edward who is propped up and watching me.

"I didn't get you in trouble did I? Should I write you a note?" he teases. I slide my eyes closed and chuckle. I push myself slowly from the floor and walk back towards him. When I get close enough he reaches for me, pulling me into him securely. He begins to pull me down into him and I resist a little.

"Can I change? You don't mind if I borrow something? I want to get out of these clothes," I breathe. His eyes glimmer and I know he's feeling better.

"I'm never gonna argue you with you taking off your clothes Bella and what's mine is yours," he offers. I pull from his grasp slowly and change in his room quickly opting for just an oversized t-shirt. I re-enter the living room and lean against the doorway for a moment to just watch. His eyes are on the TV as he lies on his side. His shirt has inched up ever so slightly revealing skin and ink.

"You're trying to kill me aren't you? You do realize that my sweats are in the drawer below the t-shirts?" he asks. I roll my eyes and pull a blanket from the closet before making my way back to him. It's hard to remember that someone looks at me and feel the way he does. That something as little as six inches of thigh could affect him so much.

"I'll make it up to you," I sigh, not really sure what that will end up being. I'm sure there's something I could come up with. Maybe I could access the goodie file…..

"That comment doesn't help me at all," he whines. He takes no time pulling me flush against him. I turn myself in his arms and bury my face in his shirt. I trail my fingers down the front of his thin white t-shirt. I reach the band of his sweats and he sucks in a shaky breath.

"As much as I would love to feel your fucking fantastic hand around me right now B, I think I owe you a little thank you," he whispers. His hand closes around mine and drags it back up his body and leaves it on his shoulder. His nose nudges mine, but he keeps his lips out of reach.

"No kissing. I don't want to risk you getting sick. Not that you won't," he sighs. I nod my agreement. Even if the risk might be worth it. His hands are hot on my skin as he weaves them into my hair. His fingers tangle there for a moment before rubbing over my neck and then slowly down.

His fingers press into my shoulder and then ghost over my breasts. I arch my back into his hands, making him press harder. He chuckles into my forehead and appeases me, rolling my nipples in his fingers. His touch releases a whimper from my mouth.

"Do you have any idea how fucking amazing it was to have you come take care of me? And Finn?" he breathes as he moves one hand down the center of my stomach. I lick my lips and nod, even though it might not be an answer.

His fingers shift my shirt up and trace over my belly button before dipping lower to tease along the lace band of my underwear. My breathing speeds up and I press even closer. The slow ache is already building and I need him to make it spread.

"I thought there wasn't anything hotter than you when I make you come, but I was wrong. There's nothing fucking hotter than you when you take care of me." He licks the shell of my ear and his hand dips underneath the lace. I gasp when his fingers come into contact with the promised land. His fingers slide up and down, easily.

"Fuck you're wet. You shouldn't let this go baby. When you're this wet just tell me and I'll help you out," he sighs. I want to tell him that I wasn't having this problem until he started touching me. That he should get an award for how fast he can make me this way, but I can't seem to find my voice. I moan instead.

His fingers tease around my clit slowly, not pressing nearly hard enough before shifting. He slides two fingers into me and I arch immediately. It's not the same as when he's inside of me, but it feels pretty damn good.

He slides them in and out slowly, matching the speed of the fingers still tugging at my nipple. I swallow a moan and press my forehead against his again, wanting nothing more than his mouth on mine.

"Come on baby, let me make you feel good," he urges. I relax against him and try to focus on his fingers. When his thumb nudges my clit I can feel the pressure boiling over. He does it again and then kisses my nose. One more flick and I feel everything explode. His fingers keep moving, bringing me up and over.

My body falls slack against him and he twists his hand away. I whimper at little at the loss and watch as he sucks his fingers into his mouth. He pops them out with a grin and I just can't help myself.

I press my lips to his, sliding my tongue in immediately. He groans into my mouth. He lets me control the pace slowly and when I pull away he smirks. I feel that warmth associated with that word again.

"I thought I said no kissing," he breathes. I shrug and turn in his arms, worried he might see that word written on my face.

"I just wanted to give you the promised land's thanks," I answer. He chuckles and grips me tighter. I'll just have to wait until the word gets its cue. Surely it can't be that hard to hold in. His hands settle around my stomach, his chin resting on my shoulder and everything just surges forward.

I take deep, slow breaths trying to contain the feelings, the urge to let the words slip. And then his breath ghosts across my neck and his fingers slip underneath the cotton to press into my heated flesh and I'm undone.

"I know its early and it may sound scary and there are all kinds of rules about when and where these kinds of things should be said, but I love you. And you should know because its not something I say to a lot of people and I want you to know," I heave. The words exhaust me, my shoulders going slack from the effort of trying to hold them in and then expelling them so rapidly.

Just as quickly I'm tense waiting for his response. Saying the words was only half the battle, now the truly frightening moment comes. The moment where he can twist this scene into a climax of the highest or lowest proportions. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and wait.

He moves slowly, twisting and turning our bodies until I'm underneath him rigid with anticipation. He looks down at me with a bittersweet mixture of something pure and sweet and a twinge of worry. His fingers brush across my forehead, pushing my bangs from my eyes.

"Really? You love me? Not just because I gave you your first non-single-digit orgasm right? Because, I fucking love you Bella, and it'll crush me if you only love me for how I make you come," he breathes. The smile stretches across my features til I'm sure it might actually crack my face in half. Because coming from him that was better than any Shakespearean prose.

I arch my neck to run my nose along his jaw and breathe him in deep.

"I love every part of you. Every piece you've ever showed me, everything you've ever given me and anything else you might be hiding. I'm hopeless. I love you," I reply surely. His lips meet mine several times, just slightly more than pressure. So much for not kissing.

"That's good because I'm fucking hopeless too. Would you still love me if I told you I was pulling some Dexter shit and chopping people up and throwing their bodies in the ocean?" he asks. I roll my eyes and feel my chest shake with laughter. In some stories this turn would make the declarations just given seem less sincere, but for us, nothing could make more sense.

"As long as it wasn't anyone I liked," I reply. His lips wander across my face, placing small open mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach. My hands reach up and under his shirt, feeling the heat pouring from his bare skin and revealing in the fact that this moment is mine.

"And, what if I said that you have to be the bug exterminator in this relationship because I'm scared shitless of anything that crawls and can't kill them?" he presses. I laugh even harder and press my lips to the side of his neck.

"Then I'd say it's a good thing that I don't really have any use for heels other than to protect the man I love," I sigh. His weight relaxes down onto me and I just hold him to me not wanting this to end. It's as if I can feel my happy ending coming on and I'm scared that it might retreat before I can catch hold of it.

~t&a~

**P.S. We have to pass this little fic secret onto you… **

**Ladder to the Sun by Rosybud. **

**This fic BLEW us away this week. Read, love and enjoy.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N t&a: so, heyyy, we love you all. more than we can even say… as usual. you're all fabballs. j/s**

**you know we don't own—we know we don't own. etc etc.**

_You'll see in my dream I'll catch you  
Into my arms I'll catch you  
Do you mind if I'll always love you?_

_Heaven's gonna burn your eyes.  
Heaven's gonna burn your eyes now.  
_"Heaven's Gonna Burn Your Eyes" Thievery Corporation

I love you. I love you, I love you, I fucking love you.

Aside from a rough couple of years after my parents died, I've never been the type of person that lacked love. I mean, I've had it. I had parents that loved me. I have adoptive parents that love me. I have a beautiful kid that tells me he loves me every day. I'm really not lacking.

But Bella told me she loved me and it felt like the first time I'd ever heard the words. She told me she loved me after she watched me and Finn vomit all night long. She told me she loved me after she spent hours nursing two smelly ass, grimy guys back to health.

She said those words and I felt the way it feels after you've been in a dark room for a really long time. Before you open a door, you think the darkness is pretty much normal because your eyes have adjusted to it. But then you open the door and _boom_. The sunlight, strong and warm and bright as fuck all, pounds into your eyes. And you realize that you had no idea. That the darkness you were used to wasn't fucking normal because _this_, all bright and beautiful, is amazing.

She's been upstairs for a few hours. I couldn't leave the bar because Tony was off tonight and it took all of my self-control to keep from telling the few customers I had to get the fuck out. My Bella has been sitting upstairs doing who knows what for hours because I had to sit downstairs and serve beer to people that, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't even be drinking.

She better not have fallen asleep.

I let myself into the apartment and Walt and Nemo both trot lazily towards me. I crouch down with a hand on each of their heads. "Where's Bella?" I ask and offer my face for them to lick. Their tails thump against the floor and I laugh. "Good boys."

I straighten out after a minute and toe my shoes off before walking further into the apartment. She's not on the sofa so I'm assuming she's in my bed. I'm equal parts excited and reluctant to walk in there. Reluctant only because I wouldn't be surprised if she were already sprawled across the bed and dead to the world.

I push the door open slowly so I won't wake her if she is sleeping. But she's sitting on the bed with her back against the headboard underneath my covers on her computer. When she hears me, she looks up and smiles at me from underneath her lashes. And my heart starts racing. It doesn't matter how many times she looks at me just like that, like she's so happy to see me, like I'm so important to her—it makes my heart speed up every time.

"Hey," I say softly. "I'm glad you're still up."

"Of course I'm up. If I was just coming over to sleep, I would have stayed at home with the futon."

I crawl onto the bed towards her. "What're you doing?" I ask and try to look at her screen.

She slams it shut and brings her thumb to her mouth. Her cheeks turn bright red. "Nothing. Just wasting time, you know. Nothing exciting."

"What kind of time?" I ask and put my hand on her belly. I love touching her. Love how warm and soft and responsive she is.

"Well, I don't know how to work your TV. The remote has too many buttons so I was just playing online. Boring really," she says quickly and tries to slide the laptop off of the bed.

"Bella," I laugh and thread my fingers through her hair. She's acting suspicious. "Were you watching porn?"

She chokes a little and shakes her head. "Um, no, of course not."

"I think it'd be hot if you were," I whisper and drag my lips from her collarbone up to her ear before taking her lobe between my teeth. "Do you do that before bed at night when you're alone?"

She whimpers. "Sometimes. More before we, you know. But sometimes I do and imagine you." Her voice trails off at the end and she tries to duck her head.

I sit back and pull her on top of me so that she's straddling my lap in just her underwear and my t-shirt. One arm goes around her back and my other hand to her chin. "That's really fucking hot. Don't be shy about it." I drag my thumb across her cheek and then push her hair back behind her ear.

She gives me half a smile and puts her hands on my shoulders. "I feel like a kid caught in the cookie jar."

"I think the cookie jar is a good place to be." I slide my hands down her back to cup her ass. "Actually, I think it's the best fucking place to be."

She sighs and she looks happy and I love being a part of the reason for that. She leans in and presses her lips to mine and then traces my lips with her tongue. I groan and squeeze her ass.

"I want you to show me," I mumble against her mouth.

She pulls back, her eyebrows creased, eyes filled with confusion. "Show you what?"

"What you watch." I slide my fingers down her ass to the warm cotton covering her pussy. "What makes you hot."

She pulls one of her hands back and brings her thumb to her mouth again. "You want to watch together?" she asks softly. "From the goodie file?"

I smile lazily at her and nod. "I've wanted to watch your goodie file with you ever since I found it."

She turns over so that her back is pressed to my chest and pulls the laptop into her lap. "I've never watched this with anyone," she says as she boots it up. "Are you sure? You think this will be… hot?"

I bring my knees up, sandwiching her, link my fingers over her belly and rest my chin on her shoulder. "I know it will be."

She clicks and open the file and then drops her hands. "You pick. Whatever you want."

I nudge her hair away from her neck before pressing my lips to it. "I said I wanted to know what makes you hot," I whisper into her ear. "I already know what I like."

She nods and clicks a few times. "I've always liked this one," she says softly. "There's something so intimate about it. Something I'd like to try."

"Which part?" I ask and slide my hands up the front of her shirt to cover her tits. I roll her nipples between my fingers and split my attention between the computer and the sounds she's making.

She gasps and arches her back, pushing her chest towards my hands. "Oh, well, that he's behind her but they seem so connected."

I slide my hand down her belly and under the band of her underwear. I cup her and she's all warm and wet and writhing against me. "Is that something you'd want to try?" I ask as I slide a finger inside of her and rub circles around her clit with my thumb.

She writhes more frantically and lifts her hips in time to the thrust of my fingers. "Yes, someday. I'd like to try all these things with you."

"Whatever you want," I whisper into her ear and loop both of my legs over hers effectively spreading her legs and making it impossible for her to move them. "I want to do everything with you." I increase the speed of my thumb against her clit and pinch her nipple a little harder.

Bella's breathing picks up as the man in the video presses the woman up against the shower wall and bends her over slightly. He slaps her ass—not enough to hurt just enough to turn the skin pink—and Bella tenses. "Do you like that?" I ask and bite down on her earlobe. I slide a second finger inside of her and pump faster in and out of her.

She stutters out a faint yes and reaches out blindly behind her. Her hand slides up into my hair and tugs slightly.

"I'm so fucking turned on right now," I tell her. "You're so wet. Are you going to come for me, Bella?" I kiss the other side of her neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin there. "I want you to come all over my hand."

She moans and jerks her hips up towards my hand. "I want to touch you too," she says and drops her head back against my shoulder. "I want to share this with you."

"After. We'll go into the shower." I pinch her clit and tug on it gently. "Come for me, baby."

She groans, a low rumble that increases in sound as her body tenses against and around me as she comes. When she's done, she drops back against me and sighs. After a minute she turns around in my lap and presses her mouth urgently to mine.

This is what I love. I love the shy, awkward Bella. But this Bella—the one that's not afraid to take what she wants, the one that initiates kissing me—the Bella that's entirely out of her shell is so fucking beautiful to me.

I wrap my hands around her waist and let her guide the kiss. After a few minutes I pull back and hold her face in my hands. "Do you want to try it?" I ask.

"If you want to, I won't say no. It looks amazing," she says shyly and then takes a breath. "Yes, I want to."

I tighten my hold on her and spin so that my legs are hanging off the side of the bed. "I love your courage," I tell her and press a kiss to her nose. "I love that you try things that you're not sure of." I kiss both of her eyelids. "And I love that you watch porn." I kiss her lips and then stand up with her still wrapped around me.

"I love you," she whispers back.

"Say it again," I tell her as I walk us into the bathroom. I throw my arm to the side to switch the lights on and then seat her on the sink.

She grins and tangles her fingers in my hair. "I love you, Edward."

"Good. I love you too." I pull away from her to turn the shower on and then pull my t-shirt off. She's swinging her legs from her seat on the sink and staring at me.

I smile at her and start doing a mock striptease. "I'm too sexy," I sing off key as I swing my shirt over my head. Bella giggles so I throw the shirt at her and then reach for the button of my jeans. "Too sexy for my pants." I rock my hips back and forth and try to maintain a straight face. "Too sexy for these panties." I drop my boxers and then walk over to her until I'm sandwiched between her legs again. "Not too sexy for my Bella."

She giggles harder and then kisses me softly. "I love you even though you're a goofy ass."

"Thank god," I say dramatically and then reach for the hem of her shirt. "Lift your arms." She lifts them and I pull the shirt off before fingering the waistband of her underwear again. "I don't think I can get these off with you sitting up here."

She jumps off of the counter and wiggles out of her underwear before grinning at me and smacking my ass. She shoots me a grin over her shoulder and steps into the shower. Where the hell did that come from?

"Uh." I peak my head into the shower. "Did you just smack me on the ass?"

She gives me a shy smile and steps back under the spray of water. "Well, you kept shaking it at me. It felt natural."

I laugh but it comes out more like a groan because there's water streaming down over her naked body and I think I might come without any sort of stimulation for the first time in my life.

I step in and wrap my arms around her. "I'll show you natural." I dip my head and kiss her hard. I slide my hand down in between her legs. "Are you ready?" I half groan. "I can't wait any longer."

She nods and turns to face the wall.

"Bella." I can't breathe. I slide my hand over the curve of her ass. "Are you sure?"

"I trust you." She looks over her shoulder at me through her big brown eyes. "Love on me. Please."

I groan and step towards her. "Spread your legs for me." She does and I slide my fingers through her pussy before spreading her lips and pressing my cock against her entrance. And then she just pushes down on me. "Fuck, Bella. You feel so good like this."

I put one hand on her belly and brace the other against the wall before I start thrusting in and out of her. She's so tight, so wet, so fucking warm. I'm going to die and I'm going to be really fucking happy about it.

"How do you feel?" I ask and kiss her shoulder.

She hums lowly and says, "Good. It's different. Such a good different."

I drop both hands to her hips and start pumping faster. "You're amazing," I grunt out. "So fucking amazing." I slide one hand to her front and start rubbing her clit. "Come for me again, Bella."

She groans and her breathing gets heavy. I'm going to come and so is she—I can feel it. "Come on, baby. Come with me."

I bite down on her shoulder as my orgasm takes me over and rub her clit harder. She cries out with her orgasm.

When we're both done, both sated, I turn her around and wrap my arms tightly around her. "I really fucking love you," I tell her.

She presses kisses along my collarbones. "I love you too."

x*x

In the morning I wake up to Bella inching her way up my body. The hard points of her nipples are making my blood pound through my veins and her hair is giving me goose bumps.

I open my eyes and give her a lazy smile. "Morning."

She gives me a big, wide grin. "Good morning," she says. "I was going to make breakfast and then remembered the last pancake episode. So I guess all you get is a kiss."

I chuckle and pull her up towards me. "I like kisses," I say and then pucker my lips, waiting.

She gives me a quick kiss. "I think your furry sons want in," she says with a laugh.

"I don't care." I wrap my arms around her in a hug and just lay there breathing. "I like this wake up call."

She gives me another quick kiss. "You will care if they destroy your living room."

I throw my arm over my eyes and groan. "Whatever. Everything in there is replaceable."

And then Bella freezes completely at my side before reaching over and tracing my wrist. And fuck, I totally fucking forgot. I don't move my arm. Not until a small whimper escapes her mouth and she says, "You have a new tattoo."

I move my arm and look at her warily. "I do," I say softly.

She pulls my hand into her lap and with the faintest touch, traces the numbers there over and over again. "I didn't even know you knew my full birthday. And it's right by Finn's and I… I…" her voice trails off and something that sounds like a small sob comes out of her mouth.

"Of course I know your full birthday." I cup her face in my hand. "I just… I'm impulsive. And maybe it's soon but I want you to be a part of me forever. No matter what. I really love you a lot, Bella."

She kisses me and the moisture on her face rubs off on my cheeks. "You're officially forgiven for the _e _in the key now."

"I thought you loved that," I tease and wipe at the tears on her face with my thumbs.

"I do now." She brings my wrist to her lips and kisses it. "I hope you'll always be glad you did this."

I pull her down so that her head is tucked against my chest and run my fingers through her hair and down her back. "I love you."

x*x

Happy. It's not something I'm used to acknowledging—not something I'm used to feeling. I felt content before Bella. I felt _okay_. But never happy.

"Hey, Huck." I grin as the kid launches himself at me.

"Daddy, I hafta tell you what happened," he says enthusiastically.

I kiss his head and set him down on the floor. "Let me say hi to mommy and then you can tell me everything. Go say hi to Walt and Nemo. They missed you."

"Okay," he says and runs into the apartment.

Savannah smiles at me but it's slightly strained. "You look good, Edward," she says and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

I smile. "You wanna come in?"

"I can't—I have to get to work."

"Oh." I lean against the doorframe. "Well, you okay?"

Her face falls slightly and she hesitates before saying, "I need to talk to you about something."

I nod. "What's up?"

"I was um, offered a really great position."

"At work? That's great, Sav. Congratulations."

She nods but doesn't smile or reciprocate any sort of excitement. "It's um… Edward, it's in California."

I stare at her. Not blinking. Not breathing. I don't even think my heart is beating. "What?"

"The job," she says softly. "It's in California." She wrings her hands in front of her. "It's my dream. I wouldn't even consider it otherwise. But I have to take it."

"In California?"

"I know you have a life here. I know and I'm sorry. I don't want to take you away from it." She's truly sorry. Because she's Savannah I know she's truly sorry. I know that if she could avoid this, avoid moving us across the country, she would. "I just… I can't pass this up, Edward."

I nod but the motion feels awkward… fake. I don't feel like myself. My mouth is dry, my heart is pounding in my ears and my eyes are burning. "Okay," I hear myself say quietly. "Okay."

"We'll talk about it, okay?" she asks and puts a hand on my arm. "If you can't leave we'll figure something out."

I nod. "We'll talk about it," I repeat even though I know there's nothing to talk about—I can't be separated from Finn like that. There's no possible way. There's no question that I'll be leaving with them.

I say bye to Savannah and lock the door.

"Daddy, can I tell you my story now?"

I nod. "Give me a minute, kid, aright?"

"Okay."

I walk into my bedroom and sit on my bed. On the bed that I woke up in with Bella wrapped around me this morning.

How the fuck am I supposed to leave Bella?


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N- t&a- sometimes we feel a little like a broken record, but it can't be said enough. The love and support overwhelms and brings slap happy grins to our faces. Thank you SO much.**

**As always, we don't own, just twist and paint to make our own.**

_I really thought I was okay _

_I really thought I was just fine _

_But when I woke this time _

_There was nothing to take me back to sleep _

_To take you off my mind _

_This time _

_And I keep saying over and over and over and over again _

_Let it rain, let it rain _

_Over and over and over and over again _

_Let it rain, let it rain I need to hide within a storm _

_So have the ending come_

_Over and Over- Rachael Yamagata_

It's a shame that you really can't transform into something else, something better in the shower. Someone should try to encapsulate Fairy Godmother powers into showers, make a fortune. I get out of the tiny stall that passes as my shower and wrap my towel securely around my body. The room is filled with steam making it feel like something more enchanting than it is.

I raise my hand and wipe at the mirror, revealing my face. I stare at the features glaring back at me and wonder if it looks the same to me as it does to other people. And not just any other people, but to Edward.

I shove the thoughts from my mind and push the bathroom open, shattering all fairy tale properties. I step into the small space of my studio and try to find anything to occupy my thoughts. I'm instantly drawn to my computer. I flip the top open and wait for the glow to resonate back at me, eager for mindless words to fill my head.

But the brief moment it takes is long enough for my thoughts to take over. Things had been so good, too good if I'm honest. Moving so smoothly I should have known there would be a glitch. Not that I even know the name of this said glitch. All I know that is one minute the man I love is vibrant and honest and in front of me and then he began to shrink away.

I'm not sure I can even find the exact moment it started. It was all love and tenderness and warmth and then it was distance, a little more each day. The hopelessness seizes my chest again and I bring my knees to my chin trying to ward it off.

He's not mean or anything close to it, but his eyes are always far away and even when he smiles its guarded. Weeks now I've waited, waited for him to come back to me. For him to mean all the jokes and words he whispers, but it's only gotten worse.

And now this. He is insisting on taking me on a date. After all our days and words he wants to go in reverse, retreat back to some step he thinks we missed. And it terrifies me. What if he wants to rewrite our story? What if he doesn't like where its going and tries to pull me back to chapters and words I gladly skipped?

My computer finally comes to life and I mindlessly go through the motions of logging on and scanning through new messages and alerts, but my mind is already sunk. Weighed down by the possibilities.

Alice is on a new kick. Determined to break me of my Edward 'fixation', she's taken to posting pictures of men on the street she thinks I would like. I've tried to talk her down from this quest, but she's relentless. But, its only facebook posts so I let her continue on with only mild chastisement, because what can it really hurt?

She has no way of knowing how deep I really am in this. That I have twisted my existence around this man and his son. That I honestly hope every part of me will be tied, attached to them in time. I type quick no's to every picture she's added and post another small dedication of my love to Edward hoping maybe this time she'll listen.

I let my computer go forgotten as I turn my head to look at my closet. I don't even know what to wear for this 'date'. Worried that it might lead to a tragedy of some sorts I want to make sure that I look at least somewhat memorable, but I'm not sure my closet boasts anything that can be defined as such. It doesn't help that a good portion of my clothing has now taken up residence in an apartment above a certain bar.

The message alert pulls me back to reality and I stare at Alice's words not really wanting to reply.

_Alice Brandon- why do you keep rejecting my pure breeds for your stray, bell?_

I grit my teeth and try to hold back the words I really want to say. An inner chant begins listing off Alice's seemingly few redeeming qualities. I get so caught up in the ritual I don't even notice the next message.

_Alice Brandon- plus added bonus….no kids hovering either. _

And I see red. My fingers fly across the keys before censoring can spare my so-called friend. It's not until I've sent them that I even realize what I've said.

_Isabella Swan- stop alice. fucking stop. you have no right. that man and that little boy have made my life better. make my life better. and all you do is try to bring them down. just fucking stop. let me know when you can just be happy for me._

I slam my computer shut before she can reply. The words weren't nearly harsh enough but hopefully she felt my hurt. You can't attack my boys without injuring me. My chest heaves with emotion and I drag myself from my futon determined to make it through this night.

The next hour moves by in a haze. I let myself go through the motions without much thought, trying to keep myself submerged in non-thought. When there is nothing left to primp, to prepare, I curl into a ball on my futon and wait. I stare out the tall windows lining the wall and watch the headlights bounce off glass and signs.

His knock pulls me from my fog only slightly. I stand and shake my head, trying to bring my mind some clarity before I face him. Not wanting to give him any doubts about his affections.

I pull open the door to see him staring at his feet. My eyes are drawn there as well watching the shuffling like it was important. I swallow thickly and raise my eyes taking in his figure and feeling my heart clench a little as it feels its home so close. His eyes rise to meet mine and I smile because I just can't help it.

His face reacts the same and I feel a little relief. I reach for him without thought and see a pink peony clutched in his hand. My eyes move from the flower to his eyes several times.

"Hi," I breathe breaking the silence between us. I lean forward and press my lips softly to his before resting back on my heels because even though we are moving backwards I can't wait til the end of the night. His eyes trail up and down my body several times and I am once again left wishing my closet or my shower had produced something akin to Cinderella.

"You look beautiful," he says and my heart races. He holds out the flower and I feel my whole body pulse with emotion. He leans forward this time and kisses me surely, holding my bottom lip between his. I smile slightly, not willing to let more emotion slip out and reveal all my worries. I take the flower and turn back into my apartment. I slip into the kitchen and use a clean glass to house it because I don't have any vases.

"No one's ever given me a flower before," I admit. Maybe he will do this again, maybe it's a reason to invest in a vase. I slip the flower into the cup and smile down at it. Edward's arm wraps around my waist and I lean back into him, constantly drawn closer.

"That kind of makes me happy. You like peonies, right?" he breathes into my ear. I nod and my eyes slide closed. Why do I feel like this is an ending? Like the credit are about to roll leaving me with a potently painful end instead of the hearts and rainbows I had been hoping for.

His lips trail across my temple and I pull away from him determined to not let this be an end. I turn in his arms and smile up at him. The ghost smile appears on his face and it's everything I can do to not be defeated.

"So where are we headed on this seriously delayed second date?" I ask hoping that my tone is light and teasing even though I feel heavy. He leans his forehead down to mine and sighs.

"For dinner," he states. He leans back enough to brush my hair away from my face. "You really do look beautiful tonight, extra beautiful."

I smile and kiss him again because it's all I want to do right now, like I have a limited number of kisses left. This feeling is awful. I pull him towards the door and try to force myself out of my rut.

"Quit using your words to try and butter me up. You don't need to do that. I'm already yours," I tell him. He trails behind me, happy to let me lead and I don't allow myself to read into it. It's not until we are outside and the night air bites at my skin and I turn into his side that I start wishing for a lucky penny to turn this night around. We walk silently down the street and when I see a newly familiar neon sign I halt.

"Please tell me that you are not taking me on a date to KFC's. I mean I love you but that would just be….not romantic at all. Not that I expect romance or anything like that, but more than fried chicken," I demand. He laughs and pulls me forward with him. I am not joking about this.

"We're not going to KFC. And why wouldn't you expect romance?" he asks. We walk past the chicken and biscuits and I shake my head. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want any unneeded pressure hovering over us tonight.

"I don't need romance. I need very little other than you. So I guess perfect date is not KFC. Anything else would be a bonus," I admit. And not having my, our story end here. But I can't tell him that. Can't tell him that I'm worried that he's so crucial to my story at this point that if he leaves my story might end completely.

"Well, its your lucky day because I had KFC for lunch and was really craving some Italian tonight," he chuckles. I smile up at him and let the silence take over once again. Even if we're just pretending to be ok, I'll take it for now. We walk and I trace patterns on the back of his hand with my thumb.

The night grows darker and he tugs me closer to him. We approach a small storefront with a red awning and he pulls me inside. He steps away to approach the hostess and I miss his heat instantly. When did I become this needy person?

We're led to a corner booth and he motions for me to slide in first before sliding in after me. I shake my head and laugh.

"You're supposed to sit on the other side," I tease. Instead of making the snide remark I expect he slides away from me and settles in across from me instead. My mouth drops open and I feel like a villain instantly. That last thing I wanted was to push him away. I wait for him to say something, anything, but he just stares at the menu like he doesn't already know what he wants. And I know he already knows. He always does.

I clear my throat hoping to draw his attention back, but his eyes stay locked on the menu. My eyes sting with the promise of tears and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop them.

"How's Finn?" I ask because I know he won't ignore that. I saw him two days ago, but it's the last weapon I have in my arsenal. His eyes flit to mine for a moment before he sighs.

"He's fine, the same, you know," he states evenly. And then the tears prick at my eyes as they emerge. There's always a story, something Finn said or did or something Edward wants him to do. It usually brings him to life. I swallow and keep my eyes on my hands in my lap. What is happening here?

The waitress appears and snaps her gum a few times before asking if we're ready. Edward spouts off an order before handing her his menu. His hands and eyes then go to the damn parmesan cheese shaker and I can't hold it in.

"And you?' she asks glancing up at me and I don't even falter.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Did you bring me to this stereotypical place to give me the brush off? Did I do something to make you feel like you didn't want me to be a part of your story? I don't understand. You've never kept your words from me before," I rush out.

The waitress backs away slowly muttering something about giving us a few more minutes. My hands are shaking on top of the table and the tears are running paths down my cheeks, but I won't be a silent sufferer. If he wants out, I'll make him say it, tell me why.

His eyes meet mine frantically and his face contorts when he sees the tears. I wipe at them roughly not wanting his pity.

"Did I what? What the hell are you talking about?" he asks. I shake my head and pull myself into the corner of the booth. Is he really going to do this? Pretend he doesn't know?

"I'm talking about the fact that you're keeping me at arms length. You go through all the motions, but you're not here with me, haven't been with me for weeks. What's going on with you? I'm tied to you, you know? And it hurts me every time you tug away, it pulls at me," I stammer. The tears are slowing and I'm starting to feel something different, something harsh. He sighs heavily.

"I've just got a lot on my mind right now. I'm not trying to break up with you. God, will you stop crying please?" he grunts. And there it is. The distance, the space he is keeping between us and I can't take it. I won't sit here and act like it's ok. He means more to me than that.

"Maybe I should just go," I offer. It seems like the best solution. I start to slide out of the booth. I want more than vague answers and brush-offs. I want his truths and his words. He reaches across and catches my hand.

"Bella," he sighs, "stay please." And just like that I'm frozen. His face is tense and while I can't leave him it doesn't mean I'm going to pretend any longer.

"Why Edward? Stay so we can pretend you're ok? Act like its fine that you don't want to tell me what's wrong? I've never lied to you before and I'm not going to start now. If you have something you want to say, I'll stay. Otherwise I don't see the point," I state and I'm proud of the steadiness I somehow produced. He breathes out erratically and opens his mouth several times with no sound.

"Would you give me a minute? Jesus. I'm trying to work it out in my head…how to tell you. Just give me a minute. Order your food," he commands. And just like that all the worst case scenarios and nightmares rush through my head. What could be so hard to tell me?

The waitress appears and I manage to point at something on the menu. My hands go to the paper napkin, shredding it into tiny pieces as my mind goes rampant. When I can do no more damage I raise my eyes slowly and take him in. My heart swells with love and in preparation for pain.

"Just tell me. Whatever it is will be better once you just say it. Please Edward. Just tell me," I plead. I don't want him to work on making the words pretty to mask the meaning. He takes a deep breath and keeps his gaze on the tablecloth.

"We're moving. Finn and I. Savannah found another job and so I'm gonna move with them. I can't be away from my kid," he heaves. I just stare at him. Just watch as he keeps his eyes hidden while my whole body rebels. I could throw up, cry and collapse all at once. They're leaving. This is an ending.

"Oh," I breathe because I don't have much else to offer. My eyes drop from him to my lap and I swallow over and over trying to help the words go down smoother. Of course he would go. Finn is his priority. I would never imagine anything else. Wouldn't want anything else.

"Of course. You have to go," I agree. My eyes slide closed and I want the fog that was wrapped around me earlier to reappear when all my thoughts were only thoughts. My eyes move upwards long enough to catch his quick affirming nod.

"I'm going to sell the bar. Open something new up out there you know?" he continues. He sounds lighter now. "California's full of shit to do. A new scene and all that. Plus the school system's better."

And now the place has a name. It's so far from everything that is here. He almost sounds excited to start over and the emotion tears at me. I let out a shuddering breath and raise my face, new tears brimming and try to smile.

"Yeah. I mean that sounds great. For you and Finn. A good choice," I say but I don't mean a word. Does he want a new scene away from me? My breathing is heavy and sputtering. Even when I thought he might end it I never thought he'd be so fully extracted from me. And Finn. I can't even think about Finn.

"Fuck Bella," he rips a napkin in half and then again, "This is completely unfair of me to ask you. I shouldn't because you've got your life here, but…"

Food is dropped in front of us, but I can't even think about eating. Anything I tried to force down would be back up in an instant. I push it away from my slightly and wrap my hands around my water glass instead, hoping for some of the cool to ease my ache.

"You don't have to explain it to me. I get it. He's your son. You can't stay here for me," I assure him. I know my words are true. He wouldn't be who I loved if he didn't follow his son, but it doesn't stop the want.

"No, I can't. But, Bella, I want you to come with us," he states. And the bottom falls out. My eyes fix on him and my heart beats a whole new rhythm.

"And I get it if you can't. If you say no," he adds. My hand goes to my mouth as my world slows down for a moment. Everything stops quivering and spinning and I feel grounded. His eyes are still down, but I reach across, pulling the napkin from his fingers and lacing them with mine. I tug until his eyes lift.

"I would never say no," I admit. I know it seems rash. I should ask for time to think about this, time to see if it makes sense, but nothing makes sense without him so there's only one answer. Nothing here is worth giving them up.

"You would come? You'll come with us?" he asks. I smile and nod several shaky times. It's impulsive and stupid, but it's just everything I want and need.

"If you want me, I'll come," I reply. He smiles and it's not the ghost I've seen for weeks.

"Shit of course I want you to come. There's so much out there for us to do," he affirms. I slide out of the booth and force myself in next to him. I take his face in my hands and kiss him hard. I'm not gentle when I suck his bottom lip between mine. I kiss him till I feel light headed and then pull away slowly.

"Us?" He nods and pulls me into him completely.

"Us. Thank fuck you said yes. I didn't know what to do," he breathes. I shut my eyes and melt into him.

"There isn't much I want that doesn't include you. You should know that by now. I can't, won't say no to you," I tell him. His lips meet mine hard and fast. I let him take control until he presses his lips slowly to mine.

"I love you," he states. I nod against his forehead. Because now that all my awful possibilities have been erased all that's left is us. And we're love and rainbows and all that frilly stuff people hate when it doesn't have to do with them.

"Almost as much as I love you," I reply. We don't move for a long time, happy to be pressed close to each other, without the weight of his secret wedged between us. Eventually he urges me to eat a little, but not to leave his side. Everything around me is warm and full, making the world apart from us irrelevant.

His phone rings shrilly breaking into our bubble and I sigh when he asks me with his eyes for permission to answer. Didn't I just tell him I'd never tell him no? He presses the phone to his ear and speaks softly. His words don't make it to my brain and I just wait for him to finish so we can sink back into each other.

"Sav got called in to cover for another nurse. She wanted to know if we could take Finn for the night. I said yes," he tells me. I nod my agreement against his chest caught up in his use of the word 'we'.

"Does she need us to pick him up? Should we get something to go for Finn?" I ask. Even thought he's not mine, he's still a piece of this puzzle. An essential part of what makes me complete. He chuckles as he pays the check, swatting away my attempt to even pay tip.

"He ate dinner, but let's get ice cream. Every good date should end with ice cream," he states. He stands and stretches, his shirt rising ever so slightly in the front and I wonder if I will ever not tingle when I see his bare skin.

We make our way to one of those create your own ice cream places and I watch in mock horror as Edward piles so much sugar in his ice cream it would make me sick. I pick something simple for myself and laugh when Edward requests a smaller version of his own creation for Finn.

He tries to shove some of his instant diabetic coma down my throat as we walk and almost succeeds when the laughter betrays me. I press up on my toes and kiss his neck feeling so happy it's a little embarrassing. We trip up the stairs to find Savannah kneeling in front of Finn outside Edward's door.

"Thanks so much for doing this. I know you said you would take him whenever, but I didn't want to interrupt," Savannah rambles.

"Issybella!" Finn's voice breaks through his mother's speech and I crouch down to accept him into my arms. His body his me hard knocking me back on my butt. I laugh and hold him close to me.

"It's not a problem Savannah. I haven't seen Finn in days," I assure her and I mean every word. I sit up Finn still clutching my neck.

"You sure? Edward said you were on a date," she presses. I roll my eyes and look up at him. The look on his face as he looks down at us makes my heart skip a little. He tears his eyes away from us to smile at Savannah briefly.

"No worries, Sav, we're keeping a tab," he quips. Savannah rolls her eyes and rushes a goodbye before heading down the stairs. Finn launches into a detailed story about his day and the boy in his preschool class who tried to eat a caterpillar. Finn thought it would be better with ketchup. I forget that I'm sitting on a dirty hallway floor.

"Hey big guy, you don't want to say hi to me?" Edward's voice breaks into my story time. Finn turns his head towards his father and grins. He reaches his arms up and Edward picks him up smoothly. I push myself up from the floor and follow them through the door.

Walt and Nemo run figure eights through our legs as we enter and I chuckle as they almost knock me over. My eyes droop a little at the sight of this place. Everything about me is now wired to relax here, let my guard down and now all I want is to sleep. Finn is now standing in front of Edward telling another story and I trail my hand across Edward's shoulders as I pass.

"I'm gonna go change," I tell him. He nods and grabs Finn before he can follow me into the bedroom.

"I'm gonna eat Huck's ice cream," he states. Finn's eyes grow wide and he whips back towards his father. I chuckle as I push open the door. I reach towards the drawer where Edward keeps my clothes and hesitate. I could wear something of mine, but I reach for his drawer instead.

I shift through his sweatshirts finding a bulky sweater. I pull it on and strip out of my jeans. The sweater falls around the middle of my thighs, but I pull on a pair of boxers for good measure. Finn doesn't need to see anything resembling the holy land.

Laughter floats in from the living room and I lean back against the bed happy to just be there. The bed sinks under my weight and I can't help but crawl further back and curl up. Relief is coming in tandem with fatigue. I haven't slept well for over a month worried about the fate of my story and now that everything is in line the urge takes over.

My eyes flutter several times before the door opens and Finn is tossed onto the bed next to me. I chuckle as he squirms his way under my arm already in his Spiderman pajamas.

"Issybella, daddy says that I can sleep in here with you guys if I don't kick," he states solemnly. I laugh again remembering the last time Finn slept with us and Edward ended up with a foot to the eye. I tug him into my chest.

"You can kick your daddy all you want as long as you don't kick me," I tell him. Edward mock glares at us from the foot of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Nice, really nice. I should send you both to another room and just have Walt and Nemo hop up here," he threatens. I roll my eyes. Empty threats. Nemo kicks worse than Finn.

"Finn and I could have a sleepover in his room if you don't want to share, Edward," I offer. Finn's head shoots up at the suggestion, bounces on his heels.

"Yes yes, Issybella can we? You and daddy always have sleepovers without me. Daddy can sleep by himself this time," he squeals. I smile at his enthusiasm. Edward crawls across the bed towards us and kneels into front of Finn.

"Oh really?" he says in fake anger, "Is that how it is Huck? I gave you life, you know, and those pajamas. And this is how you repay me? Okay, I see how it is." Edward's fingers dance across Finn's sides as his laughter fills the room. I lean back against the headboard and try not to get sappy.

"No daddy no, I can share. Big boys share. I will share Issybella with you like you shareded your gummy bears," Finn pants. Edward presses his lips against the top of his head and meets my eyes. Can they be mine? I won't ask for anything else in life if I can keep them.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N t&a: So sorry about the delay in updating. We love you all—truly, madly, deeply style. Thank you for all of the reviews and the recc's and for just being awesome.**

**So, we don't own… anything. Except for Finn, Walt & Nemo… sort of. ;)**

_I've got a girl, she tastes like rain on my tongue  
She's got the moon in her hips  
And her eyes burn up like the sun.  
When I'm gone from my girl  
When I leave her alone  
There ain't nothing that I'm running from._

_Love is a dollar that's already spent  
Love is a song that we sun  
There's war in my blood  
Love ain't the tune in my lungs._  
"War In My Blood" Fiction Family

There are so many things about my life right now that when I think about them, completely floor me. Like, if somebody had told me a few years ago that I was going to be a dad I would have laughed. I mean, the truth is that yeah, growing up I had a pretty solid childhood with the exception of a couple of fucked up years. And I wasn't completely opposed to the idea of having my own family.

What I was completely fucking opposed to was the idea of having a family that depended on me when everything is so fucking precarious. The idea of having what happened to me happen to Finn paralyzes me sometimes. The thought that I could just fucking die one day and leave the kid high and dry, alone and defenseless out of fucking nowhere is my second greatest fear. My first obviously being losing him.

But certain things are out of my control. His existence for one thing. He came into my life unexpectedly and, I thought at the time, unwelcome because I was a selfish sort of bastard. Would I ever in a million fucking years want to change it now? No. The kid is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I couldn't control the accident that killed my parents either. And I spent so many fucking years, so many hours being pissed off, alternating between yelling at god and bartering deals with him in my head to bring them back. I was a kid who thought way too fucking highly of himself. A kid who thought that he could change something that was permanent by sheer will. When I got it, when reality finally fucking set in a year or so after I moved in with my second parents, I realized that one loss fueled something new, something different, something that was entirely out of my "plan" but was good regardless.

While those realizations didn't necessarily abate my fears of dropping dead and leaving everyone that needed me behind, they did help me chill out a little bit.

Because loving Finn and loving Bella is what I need to be doing for as long as I can. Because tomorrow I might die from some sort of freak accident, I might get hit by a bus, I might get diagnosed with some terminal disease, but I'll have done everything possible while I could. And somewhere, somehow that has to be enough.

It helps too having Bella here. And it feels so fucking good knowing that she loves my kid—almost better than it feels knowing that she loves me. Because she doesn't love him as an extension of me; she loves him just because.

She said yes to me. She actually agreed to pack her shit up and move across the country with us. I never doubted her love but seeing it like that, in action, was quite possibly one of the most amazing feelings I've ever experienced before. Hearing her say that she wanted us, wanted to leave her life here and follow us… it was honestly so fucking beautiful. I've never had this type of relationship with anyone before.

And I was so fucking worried—worried that she'd say no, worried that she'd let me go, let _us _go, worried that she might think that I was leaving to get away from her. Worried that she'd feel rejected or worse, lonely here all by herself because aside from the people she works with, we're the only ones she actually sees on a daily basis.

And obviously I have to go with Savannah and Finn, but if that meant leaving her behind it was definitely ranking one of the most difficult decisions I'd ever have to make.

I rub my cheek right over her nipple because I know the morning scruff will wake her up. It's the middle of the fucking afternoon anyway. She hums and shifts slightly but doesn't wake up.

I slide my fingers up her side. "Bella," I whisper and then suck her nipple into my mouth.

She groans then and I look up but her eyes are still shut. I slide my fingers back down and in between her legs.

"Bella," I whisper again before pressing down on her clit.

Her lips part instantly and she gasps before rolling her hips up towards my hand. I make a few circles around her clit with the pad of my middle finger before sliding it inside of her. Her eyes pop open instantly and I smile at her before covering her lips with mine.

"Morning," I say in between kisses and continue sliding my one finger in and out of her slowly. "What were you dreaming about?"

"I can't remember my dreams," she breathes out and she pushes her hips up at the same time as she leans up to kiss me again. "Something much better woke me up."

"Do you dream about me?" I bite down gently on her bottom lip and rub my thumb once hard over her clit.

Her back arches, pressing her chest to mine, before she nods. "Always."

I pump just my middle finger into her and watch as she bites down on her lip and then she pushes her hips up towards my hand. God, she is so fucking beautiful.

I rub my dick against her thigh for a little bit of relief and kiss her again. She whimpers. "What?" I whisper into her ear. "What do you want?"

"You," she says and wraps her arms around me. "I want you. Please. Enough teasing."

I love hearing her say that she wants me in that voice, that voice that says _I want you as badly as you want me_. I brace myself above her and then slide my dick deep inside of her. She gasps loudly and tightens her arms around me.

I groan and drop my head, pressing my lips to her ear without moving my hips. She tries to move beneath me but I'm buried all the way inside of her so she can't move. "Bella." I bite down on her lobe and roll my hips just slightly.

She hums and tugs on my hair.

"I love the way you feel," I whisper and she shivers hard.

"Edward, please," she gasps.

I pull out then and then plunge back inside of her. She cries out and her back arches up again, towards me, always towards me. She lifts her legs and wraps them around my waist as I slide in and out of her with more speed.

Her hold on me tightens and she starts making all of her little sounds that turn me on so fucking much.

"Come now for me, Bella," I tell her and increase my speed, feeling the pressure build inside of me.

All of her muscles tighten around me; her arms, her legs, her pussy and then she just fucking explodes.

"Good girl," I grunt out in a whisper as I continue pumping in and out of her. And then I groan loudly as I rupture inside of her.

I roll over and pull her on top of me and run my hands up and down her back. "Morning," I say finally.

She looks down at me and smiles shyly. "Morning."

I slide my hands down over her ass and squeeze it once. "Let's take a shower."

"Let's? As in together? Have you seen my shower? I don't think that will work." She gives me a look as if I'm the fucking certifiable one when she's the one that pays thousands for this little place monthly.

"If we can sleep and have sex on this bed, we can do anything."

She buries her face in the pillow right next to my head. "You don't have to mock me just because everything I have is smaller."

I chuckle and bury my fingers in her hair, tugging slightly until she looks up at me. "Come on. Shower then food. I'm starving."

I wrap my arms around her tightly before sitting up and throwing my legs off the bed. "Edward," she says with a slight laugh when I stand. "I can walk."

"So can I. And I want to carry you. So, shut up." I swat her bare ass once before walking to the bathroom. "What I can't do," I say and let her slide to her feet when we get to the bathroom, "is figure out this bum fuck shower you have here. So you need to do the honors."

I jump up on the sink and watch her as she rolls her eyes and reaches in to fiddle with the handle. When the water starts running she turns and says, "It takes a few minutes to heat up and don't call my shower bum fuck."

"I call 'em like I see 'em," I tell her and smile.

She rolls her eyes and then she looks to the right of me before crossing her arms over her chest uncomfortably. I turn to see what she looked at and then look back at her in confusion. "Why are you doing that?"

She drops her eyes. "Nothing. It's nothing. Everything is always so harsh in the bathroom light."

And then I realize what the fuck is going on. I hate that. I hate that what she sees is apparently so much different from what I see when I look at her. I jump down from the sink until I'm standing right in front of her. I wrap my hands around her wrists and tug until she drops her arms. "Don't."

And then I tug on her arm until she's standing directly in front of me, her back pressed to my front, and we're both staring at the mirror. And fuck me if she's not like 100 times more attractive than I am.

"You know what's funny?" I whisper in her ear, hoping to wipe some of the tension from her. "Everything in this fucking place is so small except for this oversized mirror. It's like the bobble head on the tiny apartment body."

Her eyes stay downcast but she laughs lightly. "The landlady said it was a feature."

"The landlady probably has one hanging over her bed."

She laughs again and then starts pulling from my arms. "The shower's ready."

"It can wait." I wrap one arm around her waist and use the other to tilt her chin up. "Look," I command.

Her eyes rise slowly until she's staring at me in the mirror.

"At yourself," I tell her.

Her eyes shift just slightly and she frowns. "Nothing to write home about. Let's just shower. Don't want to waste water."

"Bella," I say impatiently into her ear. "Look. Really look. You're fucking beautiful."

She sighs and says, "We're beautiful. You make me beautiful."

It bothers me. I mean, I knew she was shy but I didn't know she was so self-conscious or anything. I can't say that I like it. At all. "No, baby, you've got it all wrong. Trust me."

"Edward," she sighs and puts her hands on my arm, leaning back into me until her head is resting on my shoulder. "Can we just get in the shower?"

I slide my hands up until they're covering her chest and then I squeeze. Her body jerks and she moans and presses back into me. "Do you believe me?" I ask and pinch both nipples, rolling them between my fingers until they're hard.

Her lips part, her eyes flutter shut, and she turns her head and brushes her lips over my neck.

I pinch her nipples again when she doesn't answer me. "Bella, answer me," I say and this time she writhes against me, ass straight up against my dick.

She nods twice and opens her eyes to look at me in the mirror. "Okay, I believe you."

"Watch your face," I tell her and slide my hands down and part her thighs.

I part her and slide two fingers inside of her. She gasps and reaches out, grabbing onto the arm I have wrapped around her. I start pumping them in and out of her and then I press my thumb down on her clit that's still sensitive from before.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Bella," I whisper in her ear and hold onto her tightly when I feel her body tensing. "Look at your face when you come for me. Come on, baby, come now."

I grab onto the hand she's using to hold onto to me and bring hers covered in mine down between her legs. I continue pumping my other fingers inside of her as I guide her fingers to her clit.

With a finger on either side, we start rubbing together, sliding up and down until she's crying out. I push her fingers together, closing over her clit, pinching it, and then she let's go and comes hard on both of our hands.

"Good girl," I whisper again and stroke her softly for a minute before dragging my fingers back up her body. "Did you like that?"

She just nods and drops her body back into my arms.

I turn her and drop a kiss to the top of her head.

"Let's get in the shower."

I follow her inside and watch her as she steps under the spray, watch as the water drips down her body.

"If I wash your hair will you wash mine?" I take a step forward in this ridiculously small bathroom and put my hands on the sides of her neck, stroking her cheeks with my thumbs.

She smiles and nods. "Is that another one of your things?"

I narrow my eyes and step forward again until we're pressed against each other. Her eyes widen when she feels my dick pressing into the softness of her stomach. "What do you mean, another one of my things?"

"You know," she says and moves slightly so that she brushes against my cock, "like having your back scratched."

She moves against me again and I groan. Her little smile makes it more than obvious that she's teasing me on purpose. "Bella," I whisper and lean down and press my lips to hers. "I'm hard again." I rub my dick against her and she gasps a little bit.

"We can't have sex in here," she says, eyes widening. "We'll get hurt. And I really don't want to go to the hospital naked."

I laugh and crush her lips to mine. "I fucking love you."

x*x

I stretch my arms up high over my head and then pull Bella's computer off of the coffee table and onto my lap. Last time I was on here I found some fucking awesome shit. I wait for it load.

"What are you doing in there?" I call out to her.

"I'm just drying my hair. I'll be out in a few minutes."

I nod and bring up the internet and pull up Facebook. It's still insane to me that she's friends with so many random people through this weird social network. Then again, something about this site always rubbed me the wrong way. But it seems to make her sort of happy so whatever.

I scan the home feed, the updates of all of the people that I don't know that somehow interact with my girl on a daily basis, and then hit the link for her Profile. I look over the page and then scroll down to see what everyone writes to her.

The first one, the top most recent post stops my heart. Alice Brandon wrote "It's only a matter of time before your stray leaves you for a new piece of tail and then you'll have wasted all your time with his little mutt for no reason."

I read it over and over again a few times as a certain calming numbness settles over my body. There will be time later to consider how completely fucking wrong I've been. Now it's just about saying what I need to and getting the fuck out.

I stand up and walk over to the bathroom door where she's blow drying her hair. When she doesn't notice me, I slap the wall hard. She jumps and puts it down, smiling at me. "Sorry, did you say something?" she asks.

"Who's Alice Brandon, Bella?" I ask her.

"One of my best friends. She was my college roommate."

"She's one of your best friends?" I feel the sickness settle in. Because if it's one of her best friends that can only mean… well.

"Yeah, I mean, she's one of the only people I talk to on a regular basis. She's the only reason I even go on there anymore. Edward, what's wrong?"

She takes a step towards me but I put my hands up and step back. "Please don't touch me," I tell her.

Her face drops and hurt crosses her eyes. "What's wrong?" she repeats.

"Do you talk to her about us?" I ask and then decide to clarify. "About me and Finn?"

"Well yes, she's one of my best friends and I wanted to tell her about you. I wanted her to know how happy you make me."

I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. My heart is beating at an alarmingly fast pace. "And what? I'm the stray and Finn's the mutt?" I ask carefully because I'm angry enough to fuck my words up right now. "That's how the two of you refer to me and him?"

Her eyes narrow in confusion. "No. Why would you even say that?"

"You know what's funny?" I ask, ignoring her question. "You played me perfectly. Innocent little never had a drink, never been fucked Bella. It was a game the whole time, right?"

Her eyes fill with tears and she reaches for me but I just take another step back. "I was so fucking stupid. Inviting you to move out to California with us." I run my fingers through my hair roughly. "One fucking mistake after another and there you were sitting on your little computer talking shit about my fucking kid."

"Edward, you have to let me explain," she says frantically. "I didn't say anything about Finn—"

I slap my hand hard against the wall again. "Don't say his name," I snap at her. "Don't even fucking think about him again. Because I have to explain where you are, why you aren't coming with us, why the woman we both fell in love with turned out to be…" I raise my hands in the air and let them drop uselessly at my sides. "I don't know, Bella. I can't think of a better word than horrible to describe you."

She gasps and puts a hand over her heart. Her tears are falling now but I couldn't give a fuck less. Because it's true. Because I have to explain to a fucking four year old where his favorite friend is. Because everything I believed and loved about this woman was false.

"I have to go," I say more to myself than her. "I can't fucking be here."

"Please don't go," she says through her sobs as I turn for the door.

"Leave your key in my mailbox," I say without turning around.

And then I open the door, step outside of it in a move I didn't think I'd ever have to make, and slam it shut behind me.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N-t&a-Thank you for the kind words and exuberant responses. **

**We don't own, but we twist and tweak to make something new**

_Mamma said, lift your head from the sieve of your hands._

_Mamma said eventually this hurting will end. _

_But the shockwaves on my bones will linger,_

_Like the ghost of you here in my bed._

_When I was lost you thought me a beautiful find._

_Sometimes I think of you sleeping, so sleep for a while._

_I find myself asking who'd do this to love?_

_Beggar's Prayer- Emiliana Torrini_

Words are meant to redeem. Redeem, define, even reassure. But what if they don't even get the opportunity to even try? If words aren't given the chance to work their magic, to smooth things over, then all that's left is the lack of hope. The truth of knowing that there is nothing lingering, hovering to plead your case.

He didn't even let me speak. He threw all his sharp, pointed words at me and left me defenseless against the wounds they created. Didn't even let me try to fix them up when he was done. He left me.

The shock wore off slowly. I stood in the doorway of my bathroom long enough that the sun made its way across the sky, dancing across the floors of the studio. My hand frozen in its attempt to reach out to him, my hand and muscles long cramped into place.

Maybe if my reflexes had been better. If I had chased after him instead of becoming a statue to my pain and grief. But my mind didn't leave that option open. He stripped me of everything that held me up and I simply stood.

When my body finally rebelled against me and I fell to the floor, there was no pain. Physical pain has ceased to matter, cased to compare to the ache, the fissure in my chest. My mind couldn't wrap itself around what happened.

Eventually I pulled myself from the floor only to make sense of the agony. My computer was still sitting open on my futon, long dark from lack of use. I made it to the bed before the next wave of pain hit. I could smell him, us here. His scent still strong from the night and morning spent there. How could things have reversed so quickly?

It was another pass of the sun before I could find the strength to boot up the screen. It flickered to life revealing the disastrous words. My eyes took in each word feeling the pain and betrayal that he must have felt. The last word a driving stake into my heart. Why would she do this?

I curl into a ball, tears not even willing to be my companion in this moment. My eyes stay painfully open and glued to the words. I understand his pain, feel it for him, but still didn't understand.

He should know me. Should know the love I have for him and for Finn. How could he toss aside all the words, all the moments, for the jealous ramblings of a tiny girl who loves nothing more than herself?

And then I'm sick. I barely make it to my sink before I empty the acid from my stomach, time ridding it of any other contents. I lean against the cool metal and wait for my breathing to steady, but it never happens.

I drag myself back to my futon and clench the pillow that carried his scent to my chest. And then things go black.

xx

On the third day I drag myself from his scent and my misery to try and take action. I burst from the apartment with an energy I shouldn't posses and make my way to the bar. The place is barren, but it's the middle of the day. I push on the door, but it doesn't budge. I push harder digging my nails into the wood, but all I get is a sliver underneath my fingernail.

And then I see the sign. A single sheet of paper tacked to the door announcing new ownership and thanking people for their business. The words bring tears to my eyes realizing there will be no more La Bella's and that the next owners may not like the single navy wall.

I slide down the brick facing not caring that people are cursing me as they try to step around me. He really left. I knew he left my apartment, knew he wouldn't come back for me there, but for some ridiculous reason I didn't think he'd actually leave. My eyes slide closed and picture the inside of this building like I remember it, trying to cling to those last memories.

My eyes finally open and focus on the windows across the street. He's moving on. I should try too.

xx

I go back to work, telling them my previous notice to quit was a false alarm and settle into the familiar monotony. My script provides a mindlessness I need to function. There is little else I focus on. I get up, I go to work, I utter lines like a trained chimp and I go home. Once home the day comes back up to greet me and I'm sick. Every day I'm sick. It becomes part of the routine.

I eat simply because I have to, not caring about the texture or taste. People talk to me, but I feel like I'm underwater. I can see their lips moving, but the words never reach my mind. Eventually most people stop trying. The silence becomes my companion.

The mirror in my bathroom mocks me so I take it down. Not caring what its reflected back at me and not wanting that reminder every day.

My computer is completely abandoned. Alice takes to calling me. I don't answer. The only calls I take are from my parents and that's only to assure they don't show up to see me like this.

And I wait. I wait to feel anything but empty, wait for anything to effect me, move me, but nothing does.

xx

I've been staring at the same wall of cereal for a long time. People move around me, in front of me and I don't even know what I'm looking for. This was supposed to be a turning point. The grocery store was going to inspire me to eat something other than crackers and stale marshmallows. But I'm still at a loss, still waiting for something to bring me back to life, to slap me into reality.

Another shopper bumps into me again and I pick up the first box my fingers touch, tossing it into my cart. Its full of things I'm supposed to want, but they don't appeal. I lean heavily on the cart and push it slowly down the aisle in no hurry to get back to my studio, where his scent has long disappeared just like he did.

I stand in line grateful for an excuse to be still. The beeping of the scanners gives me a rhythm to match my heart to. A hand touches my shoulder and I instinctively move to let the person pass, but the hand stays in place.

My eyes blink at the hand, trailing along the arm till it reaches a body. I tilt my eyes up and see a face that makes my throat tense. The face in my memory is always stretched into a smile, dimples prominent, but this face is stoic.

"Bella?" Emmett's voice breaks through the haze slightly and I blink up at him like a mirage. He tugs at my arms, pulling me gently from the line and towards a less crowded corner. His hands brace my shoulder and he leans down to look me in the eyes. He swallows thickly and his eyes cloud slightly.

"What the hell Bella?" he sputters. I blink up at him and try to smile. My chapped lips crack with the effort and it presents as a wince. My fingers reach up and my tongue flicks out to taste blood.

"Emmett?" my voice sounds foreign to my ears. The sugar coated version I use for work the only thing I've allowed myself to use. He takes a deep breath and pulls me into him.

"Good lord, little girl. What happened to you?" he breathes. I simply stare at him feeling more alive than I have in weeks.

"How are you?" I ask because its all I can think to say. I don't know what he knows and I don't want to invoke pity. That's the last thing I want from anyone. He shakes his head and pulls me under his arm. With one hand he takes charge of my cart, guiding it to the line and pushing it through. I let myself lean on him, happy for some kind if support.

I pull my money from my wallet at the right time and he gathers the bags easily, keeping me pressed to his side. He asks me my address before tucking me into a car. I lean my forehead against the cool glass and feel my nightly routine start to bubble inside of me.

He parks outside my building and I don't argue when he takes the bags into his arms again. I just need to get inside before my stomach empties on the sidewalk. I teeter up the stair and push open my door making it to the bathroom just before I am reintroduced to the soup and crackers I forced down earlier.

Emmett stays out of the bathroom at least. I rinse my mouth and stare at the wall where my mirror used to be. I step out and see Emmett leaned against my counter.

"Ed told me you broke up. Wouldn't tell me anything else. I assumed you decided not to go to Cali or that he did something assholish. What happened Bella?" he asks. His head raises and I avoid his eyes.

"Do you want something to eat? To drink?' I ask. I busy myself around the kitchen trying to put away the groceries. Emmet grabs my shoulder and stills my actions.

"I'm going to say this hoping that you will know that I mean it with the best intentions. You look like shit run over Bella. And what the hell was that in the bathroom?" he demands. I chew on my raw lips and taste blood once again.

"I'm fine Emmett. I've just been sick. Maybe I caught what Ed…what they had," I offer. Can't say their names, won't. He lets out a frustrated sigh and slams a single fist against the counter. My heart flutters and it feels good to feel something.

"This is not fine. Nothing about this is fine. Have you seen yourself?" he heaves. I shake my head. That was the point. I don't want to know.

"I'm getting better. I promise. I mean I just bought all this food. It's nice that you care, but I'm fine," I insist. I clench my jaw in defiance. It's all lies, but I want to believe them. Emmett takes a deep breath and pulls me into his chest.

"Tomorrow morning we're going to the doctor. You're going to make sure you're healthy and then I'm going to make sure you start to get better," he breathes. I shake my head in defiance, but he grunts.

"Do not argue. I need to know you're ok. There are people, idiots really, who would want to make sure. So you just be ready to go at 10, got it?" he orders. I nod my head and he smiles. The gesture makes me try a smile again. It goes a little better this time.

"Fine. 10. I'll see you then," I answer hoping to appease him. He doesn't move.

"I think I'll stay just to make sure," he decides. My eyes widen and drift to my futon. There's no way.

"Relax Shadow. I'll pull up a chair or take the floor. I don't have a death wish," he laughs. I don't question his comment. It might be nice to not be alone.

xx

My hands twist in my lap and I try to ignore the large enforcer next to me. I hate doctors. I've never liked going and as soon as my mother could no longer make appointments for me I stopped going. And now I'm being forced again by such a different kind of bully.

Said bully is currently trying to complete one of the children's' puzzles. One that apparently is quite popular because several children are glaring at him as he makes his attempt.

"Isabella Swan?" I jump at the sound of my name and Emmet reaches over to pat my back reassuringly. I follow the nurse through the door and wonder if I can bribe her into telling Emmett I went though with this. She tells me to take off my shoes and step on the scale.

"This isn't really necessary. I mean I'm really fine. My friend is just being overbearing," I argue. She glares at me over her glasses and I slip my shoes off and step up. She fiddles with the scale and makes some kind of noise in the back of her throat.

"When was the last time you saw a doctor Ms. Swan?" she asks. I smile nervously and tell her six years. The shock is apparent in her face. She whispers something to a passing nurse and turns back to me.

"You'll need to go with Jeanette here to have your blood drawn and get a urine sample," she instructs. Please no. I shake my head.

"No really I'm sure I just have the swine flu or something. There's no need for all that," I tell her. Another stern look and I'm being led down a hallway. A half hour later I'm seated on a table covered with paper, only wearing paper and clutching a cotton ball to the inside of my elbow.

Evil thoughts about Emmett are passing through my mind. Things like locking him in a room with the nurse from hell out there. I shift slightly and cringe when the paper rips beneath me.

People stream in and out asking me questions and telling me the doctor will be in shortly. A small part of me feels vindicated that Emmett will have to wait this long. This whole doctor thing is silly. I'm going to eat more. I'm trying to be better. It's almost like Ed….will not even think like that.

Finally the door opens again and a woman with a clipboard steps in. I try to straighten and only manage to rip the paper more.

"Isabella, I'm Dr. Monroe….it's been awhile since your last check up. Was there any reason you decided to come see us today?" she asks. She doesn't even raise her eyes. I take a deep breath.

"I've been sick for awhile and my….friend thought I should come make sure everything is ok," I offer. Her eyes finally raise from the board and she quirks an eyebrow.

"Your friend huh? And what do you mean by sick?" she asks. I sigh and talk about the routine sickness. I'm sure she'll give me some lecture about taking better care of myself and send me on my way. I mean what can they really do for the flu?

"Well, that seems to align with some of your test results," she adds. Again with the staring at the clipboard. I chew on my thumbnail and wait for her to reveal what ever it is she's so consumed by. Damn clipboard may as well be a magic mirror.

"When was your last menstrual cycle?" she asks. My head rears back at the question. I was expecting a diagnosis not another line of questioning. I try to shift through the mess in my head to remember. It's always the beginning of the month so…

"I don't know. A couple of weeks ago," I offer. Her eyebrow rises again and I'm starting to get angry. She pulls up a stool and finally puts down the damn clipboard.

"You sure?" she presses. I throw my hands in the air.

"No, I don't keep track of it. I'm usually really regular and that isn't part of the problem here. Aren't you supposed to be shoving something up my nose to check for the flu?" I demand. I watch news I know how this should be going. She laughs and pats my knee.

"You have elevated hCG levels in your urine Isabella," she offers. Like that's a real answer. I don't speak this language. She obviously sees my confusion.

"You're pregnant," she states. And just like that the world spins out of control. I fall back and black takes over. Too soon I'm being pulled back and I sit up sputtering and breathing deep. Emmett's face is too close to mine.

"You ok Shadow? They said you passed out," he asks. I nod furiously and push him away. I blink several times and try to regain my equilibrium. A bottle of water is shoved towards me and I press it to the side of my face.

"The news was obviously a shock," A voice breaks in. My eyes adjust enough to see the Doctor behind Emmett. And then I feel light headed again. I teeter a bit before Emmett steadies me.

Pregnant. Baby. Edward's baby. Not possible. He always used condoms, well almost always. There were a few times…

"What news? Is she ok? Do we need to go to the hospital?" Emmett spits. The Doctor laughs. I glare at her. Nothing about this is funny.

"No. I don't think I should be the one to tell you, but she's fine for all intents and purposes," she assures him. I lean forward and place my head on my knees. I can't handle this. Can't process this.

"I'll give you guys a few minutes alone," she offers before slipping out the door. Emmett stands in front of me and tilts my face up. His eyes are full of worry and I can't look at him.

"Bella what's going on? I know that we're not exactly friends and maybe you don't really want to tell me, but shit if there's something wrong just tell me ok?" he pleads. Tears well up and spill over my eyes and he steps back, clearly overwhelmed. I can't blame him, I'm almost in a panic. My hand goes to my stomach and I can't even comprehend.

I look up at Emmett and his eyes are frozen on my hand. He looks up at me, his eyes watery and I know he knows.

"You can't tell him Emmet," I stammer. His eyes widen and his jaw constricts. He breathes heavily. We enter a staring contest until the Doctor slips back in.

"I take it we're all caught up?" she asks. Emmett nods and she smiles.

"Great. As you know there are options in this situations," she begins. I gasp at the thought and shake my head.

"No, no. I'm having the baby." And just like that it's real. I've said it out loud. She nods and launches into a speech about confirming with blood results within 48 hours and prenatal care. The episode is a blur and too soon I'm outside the office my hand full of pamphlets and a card with an appointment with an OBGYN.

Emmett keeps a hand on my back steering me out of the building. The car ride is completely silent. He eases the car into park in front of my building and I reach for the handle.

"He would want to know," he tells me. I take a deep breath and turn to face him. The fog rises and all I feel is anger.

"He doesn't want to know Emmett. He left. I know he told you we broke up, but something happened and he didn't even let me explain he just left. And now, now there's this. And I know that I should tell him, but he made his choice and right now I just need to be alone. I need to process this without thinking of what HE deserves," I spew. Emmett nods solemnly and I throw the door open and burst into my building.

I take the stairs quickly and shove my door open anxious to be in a familiar place. I tear my clothes from my body and just stare down at my stomach. There's nothing different about it. No bump nothing to even suggest that there's something, someone inside. My hand ghosts over the place where the baby would be and I collapse onto the bed.

He would want to know. If things were different he would want this baby. Even if it wasn't what we planned, he loves being a father. That much I know. Everything in my body clenches and I'm pissed. So angry at him for taking this moment that should be something special, something exciting and tainting it. My hand darts out and knocks the lamp next to me to the floor, the ceramic shatters and it feels good.

The picture frame is next, and then a misplaced glass. The floor is now covered in shards and I feel a little better. My stomach turns and reminds me of the cause of my daily sickness.

I lay back and intertwine both hands over my abdomen. My eyes clench shut and I just breath. I breath and resolve to be better, to feel better. This isn't just about me anymore and I won't make this baby suffer for my or his mistakes. I shift and the papers from the doctor crackle under my weight.

I pull them to me and start to read. This is happening. With or without him. It's not the story I wanted, the story I saw, but I will adjust.

xx

"Shadow, you gonna cook for me tonight?" Emmett pesters from behind me. I swat at him and unlock my mailbox pulling the stack of papers from inside. He's attached himself to me. Says it has nothing to do with Edward that he just likes to bother me and honestly I don't care. It's nice to not be alone.

"Cook for yourself Emmett. I am not your personal chef," I reply. I begin to climb the stairs and feel him behind me. At least he doesn't ask a lot of questions. He hasn't mentioned telling….Edward since that day. Doesn't ask me what I'm going to do, just hangs around incessantly and hovers. I shove the letters into his hands as I fight with the locks on my door.

"The only food happening in here tonight is peanut butter and bananas Emmett," I warn. He laughs behind me and follows me in regardless. He begins to shift through my mail and I step into the kitchen.

Even thought Emmett doesn't ask questions doesn't mean it's not all I think about. The only thing I've decided is that I won't stay here. This baby will have people, even if those people are my crazy health nut mother and overly detached father. I haven't broken the news to Emmett yet.

I have three weeks left at work and then just enough money in my account to last a few months of rent and necessities. By that point I should have gotten up the courage to call my parents. I open the fridge and pause to look at the sonogram picture tacked to its surface.

14 weeks. Apparently that means that I'm in my second trimester. That my baby has fingers and toes and in just a couple more weeks I'll know the sex. Emmett let me go alone to that appointment, I felt like I was denying him some god given right, but I needed to be alone. Didn't want anyone calling him the father.

The newly familiar sadness creeps in with that word. The anger was much more liberating. It let me keep him at arms length, but when I heard the heartbeat for the first time I wanted him there. I wanted him to be holding my hand and swearing with excitement. Instead I cried alone and tried to smile when the Doctor congratulated me.

Emmett slaps down the sorted mail on the counter and I eye the large blue envelope on top. I don't get mail. I get bills and junk, but nothing of substance. The writing is loopy and unfamiliar, but it's my name.

"I thought I was getting a sandwich out of this deal," Emmett complains. I point towards the fridge inviting him to help himself. I finger the letter before lifting it. The return address burns me and I drop it back down. California.

I take several deep breaths just staring down at the paper. It's not his writing, but there's no one else who it could be from. Emmett starts rattling on about some woman at work whose giving him a hard time and I wait for my heart to stop racing.

The urge is too strong. The first contact I've had. I tear at the envelope and slide the cardstock from inside. The familiar face of Harry Potter stares up at me littered with a date and time, Finn's birthday. His fourth birthday, the one he invited me to months ago. I turn the card over and a sob lodges in my throat.

There on the back is my name written he way only a toddler could write it, traced. Under it is a quick message in the same loopy writing.

'_You were the first person on the list of people he wanted to invite. I don't know what happened, but it would make his day if you came. –Savannah & Finn'_

I sob openly now and Emmett rushes from the other corner of the kitchen.

"Is this one of those moments that you're crying because you're growing a baby?" he asks. I lift the card for him to see and he freezes.

"Ohhhh shit," he hisses and I nod. I cover my mouth trying to stifle the pathetic sounds coming from my mouth. Gradually I reign the sobbing in and brace myself on the counter.

"Shit Bella what are you going to do? You want me to call and tell them no? I'll do that," he offers. I shake my head. There's no way. This tiny boy was half the reason I was so devastated. I can't say no to him any more than I could his father. And if he wants me still, wants me to come I'll go.

"Look for flights Emmett," I tell him. I know he'll know what I mean. This could very well be the worst decision I've ever made, but I won't deny him. He had nothing to do with this. This will be my closure. I'll say my peace and walk away from this knowing that my words were heard.

I straighten and nod to myself. This is what I need. I'll be there for Finn, make sure he knows it's not his fault. And then I'll leave his father with words. My story won't be untold.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N t&a: Phew. So, we're **_**almost **_**in the clear. Thank you guys for hanging in there, for your reviews and your feedback and your overall support. Really.**

**Anyway, we don't own… wish we did but yeah, who doesn't?**

_I saw that building burned down, when I got to your front lawn  
I thought you'd be here, yeah, but you'd already gone  
I went down to the river, you hid under the water  
And then you held your breath, yeah, and then you disappeared._

_I've been sinkin' low and I can't find my baby.  
_"Sinkin' Low" Joe Purdy

"Daddy, where's Issybella?"

I don't answer his question. Can't. Don't want to. Semantics. Whatever.

I hoist the last of our boxes up from the floor and start for the door. "Come on, Huck, I need to get this into the truck, buddy."

He doesn't move though. Instead he stands with his arms crossed and stares at me. "We can't leave Issybella," he says stubbornly, bottom lip jutted out. "We have to wait for her."

"Finn," I snap, "we need to go. Come on."

His eyes fill and he sits down on the floor. "No. I not leaving without her."

I sigh and put the box back down on the floor before walking over to sit down in front of him. The tears are streaming faster down his face. This is what I fucking hate. This, more than anything else, more than feeling hurt myself, is what I could fucking kill her for. For leaving me to deal with this, having to explain to a four year old that some people are fucked up.

"Listen, big guy," I say softly and pull him into my lap. "Bella's not coming with us."

"No," he says and shakes his head and tries to push off of my lap. "We can't leave her here by herself."

"She's not by herself."

"I'm her friend," he argues desperately and I feel my eyes sting as the past few days and exhaustion start to catch up with me. "I'm her friend, I can't leave her here by herself."

"You'll always be her friend, Huck, okay? Always. But right now we have to leave and she's not coming with us. Maybe later, okay?"

"Can she still come to my birthday party?" he asks, lip trembling.

I rub my eyes and nod because there's no way I can deny him this right now. "We'll send her an invitation, okay?"

He nods, placated momentarily, and wraps his arms around my neck. I stand up slowly. "You gotta ride on my back, kid. I need to carry this box down."

I swing him over and make sure he's holding on tightly before leaning down to pick the box back up. The last of it. I sigh and kick the door shut behind me.

"Daddy, where are Walt and Nemo gonna sit on the plane?"

"They have special seats for dogs."

When we get outside I look up the way I always do, hoping stupidly to catch some sort of glimpse of her in her little peeping tom office window. Of course I can't see anything. I don't know what I would do if she were anyway. But I haven't seen her go in or out of that building.

And I suppose that despite everything, I still worry that she's okay. But it's not my problem anymore.

x*x

This house is beautiful. It's enormous with huge windows and a backyard beach. This house is meant for a family. This house is not for some pathetic single dad who only sees his kid sometimes and otherwise lives by himself with his monster dog and spends his nights with his back to the aforementioned windows drinking himself to sleep.

Because I can't fucking sleep without it. I close my eyes and the betrayal, the let down, settles right there in my stomach. It twists and swirls and makes me physically sick.

Betrayal is something that I simply cannot handle.

After my parents died I spent the next few years so fucking pissed off at them. They left me behind. Well, that's how I saw it at least. I was left behind. Let down. Betrayed. Deserted.

So when that feeling or anything that remotely resembles it starts to arise, I immediately go back there. Stupid? Maybe.

Apparently stupid is a forte of mine.

I saw this little girl with these huge, sweet, innocent fucking eyes and I didn't even think twice. I didn't stop and wonder if it was a good idea to introduce her to Finn so soon. I didn't stop to think that maybe I was moving too quickly. God forbid I stopped ever after my dick twitched. It twitches and I don't think about anything else.

And she was so fucking charming and sweet and seemingly perfect. Totally fucking perfect.

Barely a handful of fucking months later and I was moving us into a house across the country. I was moving across the fucking country with a woman that I clearly didn't know very well, my kid and his mom, and my oversized dogs like the fucking dysfunctional but model American little family of perfection.

Jackass. Total fucking immature jackass.

What kind of parent makes rash decisions that involve their four year old kid like that?

What kind of dad exposes his kid to a woman that he barely knows?

Not the good kind.

And yet, it's eating away at me because it was so completely unexpected. Bella was supposed to be safe. Bella with her pretty childlike eyes and her innocent little questions and her sweet laugh was supposed to be safe. She was supposed to love us both.

And I would've forgiven it if that shit on her Facebook was only about me. I'm not that sensitive, I can deal with a little bit of trash talk. But I can't fucking deal with it when it's about my kid.

I watch the whiskey as it slips in between the ice in my glass, making it crackle and hiss. Glass number 3. This one, if everything goes as planned, should put me to sleep.

My phone vibrates hard against the table, making me jerk, sloshing the drink in my hand. I reach for it quickly as alcohol puts delusional hope in my mind.

It's only Emmett.

"Hello?" I sigh, hoping to convey my irritation at his interruption of my nightly ritual.

"E man," he whispers and then I hear him close a door behind him. "How's Cali?"

I shrug and take a sip. "You called me in the middle of the night to ask me how California is?"

"Yeah, well. Small talk. Finn's okay?"

"Yeah. At Savannah's. What's up, Em?" I ask because honestly, Emmett likes beating around bushes but he never calls me unless he has something to say. And I figure he wouldn't be calling at this hour if this something wasn't important.

"So, I was at the market today and I ran into Bella."

My breath whooshes from my chest at the sound of her name. I haven't heard her name out loud since my conversation with Finn before we left. I only hear it in my head. I don't answer him, just take another drink from my glass.

He sighs and his aggravation is obvious. "She looked like shit, Edward," he says harshly. "Could hardly stand. Pale and shit."

Worry, despite my efforts to beat it down, rises up in my throat. "So?" I force out.

"So I brought her home and scheduled a doctor appointment for her for the morning. Do you not give a fuck?"

"She's not my business," I say softly, hating the words, hating the bitterness they leave in my mouth mingling with the whiskey.

"Whatever, man. Just wanted to let you know. I'm staying with her tonight."

"You're _what_?" I snap and slam the glass down on the table.

"I'm sleeping here, at her apartment, with her," he says slowly as if I'm mildly retarded. "And then I'm going to take her to the doctor tomorrow."

I feel dizzy with the way my mind races. The only furniture in her apartment is that shitty futon that's barely big enough for two people. Where the fuck… hell, no.

"You're sleeping at her apartment?" I repeat dumbly.

"That's what I said."

"You better not fucking sleep in her bed," I snap at him.

"What the fuck do you care? She's not your business," he says, throwing my words back at me.

"Emmett, I'm not fucking kidding."

"Neither am I. The girl is fucking ill. I'm the only one here to take care of her. Just thought I'd let you know."

"Don't touch her," I hear myself all but growl at him. As if I can control it. As if I have any fucking say from my dark fucking kitchen across the fucking country.

"What do you think I'm going to do? Fuck her while she's unconscious? I'll talk to you later, man."

"Call me tomorrow after her appointment, Emmett."

"Why?"

"Because I fucking said so," I shout at him. "Just do it."

"Whatever. Take care of yourself, E."

Before I can shout another million profanities at him, I hear the dial tone. I tilt my head back and pour the rest of my drink straight down my throat.

Bella's sick. Bella's sick and Emmett's there, in her apartment, in her bed taking care of her. Of my Bella.

x*x

I don't sleep all night. Well, that's not true. I fell asleep a few times for 20-30 minute increments. Each time I closed my eyes, I was plagued by images of Bella in a hospital bed, hooked up to IVs, barely conscious and entirely incoherent. By the time 6:00 rolled around, I was nauseous, my stomach was tied up in knots and my head felt like someone took a hammer and pounded at it for hours.

Without Finn for a distraction, I took the dogs out for a walk. Honestly, Nemo can't run anyway. I normally take them out separately but today I don't think I can run. I think if I ran my skull would crack open and Nemo would end up licking the remains from my brain off of the floor.

When I get home, I force myself to take a shower before making any phone calls. I doubt Emmett would be taking Bella to a doctor appointment at 7:30 in the morning. By the time I'm out, I call Emmett. He ignores the call. Like, blatantly ignores.

I slam the phone down in frustration and is eight too early to start drinking?

When the phone buzzes hard against the wood of the table, I snatch it up and answer without looking.

"Thanks for ignoring my call, Emmett," I snap.

"Daddy?"

Fuck. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I need to calm the fuck down. "Hey, Huck. Sorry, kid, I thought you were Emmett."

"S'okay. Daddy, guess what we're doing later?" he asks excitedly.

"What?"

"Making my Harry birfday invitations. Mommy said to invite you to come help."

"I'll be there. Should I bring any snacks?"

"Cookies!" Finn says with more enthusiasm than is warranted on a day that is _this _bad.

"Edward?" It's Savannah. I rub my forehead. She's been up my ass ever since we moved here.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Just wanted to tell you that we're probably gonna start making these things around four."

I nod even though she can't see me. "Yeah, I'm coming."

"You okay? What'd you do last night?" she asks.

"Nothing." Drank. "Just went to bed." Tossed and turned all fucking night.

"Have you spoken to _B-E-L-L-A_?" She's taken to spelling Bella's name around Finn because if he hears it, he gets so fucking worked up and excited you'd think he was about to pee all over the floor. She's also taken to asking me the same question ever fucking day.

"No."

"Edward, why don't you just call her?"

"No." I want to.

"Should I call her?"

"Savannah," I sigh, exasperated. "Let it go. Now."

She sighs, frustrated. "Fine. Whatever. I'm not the one walking around with my boxers shoved up my _A-S-S _hole_. _I'll see you later. You're licking envelopes."

And then she hangs up.

x*x

It's almost 4:00 and Emmett hasn't answered a single one of my phone calls. He's ignored me all fucking day. I'm beyond pissed. I'm beyond worried. I'm tempted to buy a ticket and fly out there just to see what the fuck is going on.

I feel like I have multiple personality disorder. I go from being so fucking pissed to missing the girl so fucking much so many times a day that it's dizzying.

When I pull into Savannah's driveway, my phone finally rings. "What the fuck is your problem?" I snap at Emmett as I put the car in park. "Why haven't you answered me today?"

"Because I've been with Bella all day and she asked me not to speak to you."

That hurts. A lot. My heart feels like… well, like shit. Like pummeled, stomped on shit. I put my forehead down on the steering wheel and close my eyes. "Is she okay?" I ask quietly.

"Yeah."

I wait for him to elaborate. He doesn't. "Well? What the fuck did she have?"

"Nothing, man, fuck. I just told you she was fine."

"So what the hell did she need a doctor for?"

"The stress." He pauses. "She's been upset. It makes her sick."

"What do you mean it makes her sick? Makes her sick how?"

"Like, she throws up and shit a lot. I don't know, Edward. Pick up the phone and fucking call her. _Ask _her what's wrong," he snaps at me.

"I've gotta go, Emm," I say with a sigh and rub my eyes. "You sure she's okay?"

"Yeah." He sounds disgusted and resigned. "She's okay. She will be anyway."

I nod. "Thanks. For calling me back."

x*x

By the time I get home my head is pounding and I wish it was my day for Finn. Because again, I'm alone with two oversized dogs and a bottle of alcohol in a house that's too big for me.

And all I can think about is the way Bella's name looked on that envelope in Savannah's handwriting per Finn's insistence. I don't want her to come here. I really want her to come here. I really want to see her, want to see if she's okay, want to hear what the fuck that was all about.

I fall back on my bed and drape an arm over my face.

I hate this.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N- t&a- all we can offer is a sincere echo of our thanks to those of you who are still cheering us on, still taking this journey with our pair. **

**We don't own the original pair, but we have created a new world for them to unravel. **

_When the routine bites hard_

_And ambitions are low_

_And the resentment rides high_

_But emotions won't grow_

_And we're changing our ways_

_Taking different roads_

_Then love, love will tear us apart again_

_Why is the bedroom so cold_

_Turned away on your side?_

_Is my timing that flawed_

_Our respect run so dry?_

_Yet there's still this appeal_

_That we've kept through our lives_

_Love, love will tear us apart again_

_Love Will Tear Us Apart- Susanna and the Magical Orchestra _

"Are you sure you don't want me to come? Just say the word and I will buy a ticket," Emmett offers. I roll my eyes and shove at his shoulder. It's not that I don't appreciate the offer or his new place as my support system. But this isn't going to work if I let him come and protect me. He'll keep Edward away and let me stay silent and as much as it will hurt I need to be exposed, have to force myself to say these things.

"No Emmett. I'm going to be fine. I'll be there this morning and back tomorrow morning. And besides, like you could afford a ticket last minute," I reply. My ticket cost me almost a month's rent. Eating away at the time I had given myself to tell my parents, but it's worth it. It WILL be worth it. To see the look on Finn's face and to have a chance to finally move forward.

He nods and hands my bag over to the skycap. My hand goes to my still relatively flat stomach, but I pull it back quickly. I can't give that secret away on this trip. This isn't about my baby, our baby. And I won't have him coming back for that reason.

"I'll call you when I land," I promise and hug Emmett tight. He returns he gesture and I enter the airport. I know this is hard on him, know that he's torn between two friends. And I won't ever be able to thank him enough for all he's done for me. Maybe I'll name the peanut after him. I shake the thought from my mind.

I slide into my seat, cursing my luck to be in the middle of two people who clearly don't know the meaning of a separating armrest. I slouch down and roll my head to my shoulder pleading for sleep to take over. Instead my mind goes wild.

Savannah's voice when I called to RSVP comes first. Her excitement reassured me a little. I asked her not to tell Edward and she surprisingly agreed. Told me that she's on my side, which I hardly believed, but appreciated none the less. I wonder how much of the story she got. Emmett's collected the truth over the last few weeks, a tiny piece here and there.

And then my mind begins to spin the future. The different ways this could all play out. A myriad of possibilities. I know it's too much to hope he'll be happy to see me, that time will have healed his wounds, but I hope regardless. More likely I think of the anger he displayed that last day and hope that I can survive it better this time than last.

My thoughts make time pass far too quickly and too soon the plane is descending. My stomach erupts in butterflies that I don't know whether to blame the motion or the baby. I jerk forward as we hit the ground and bring my thumb to my mouth. I'm here now. The airport is crowded, people in a rush to get someplace I don't know. I ease my way forward looking for the signs to guide me towards a cab.

I slide into the backseat, handing over the invite to the driver and lean back into the seat. I should make it in time, I didn't allow time for anything but the party. This way if he doesn't listen I have an easy escape. The scenery flies by full of sunshine and palm trees and I feel like I'm seeing a glimpse of what could have been and it burns just a little.

The palm trees give way to ocean and the cab slows. I almost ask him to take me back to the airport. I clutch my stomach looking for strength there. I pass over a few bills, another couple of days worth of money given away that would have bought me time. As soon as I step out I can hear the music, its light and poppy, everything Finn loves. I drag my rolling suitcase behind me as I follow the signs to the back of the house.

As soon as the scene appears I just stop. Everyone has black robes on, even the few adults. There are balloons everywhere, tugged by the ocean breeze. I shove my bag against the side of the house and duck behind a tree to watch for a little longer.

Finn is easy to spot, his hair looking even redder in the sun, he runs and jumps at Edward who is twisting a broom above his head and smiling. And my heart stutters. My mind can't help but wonder how much of my baby will be Edward. I refuse to cry. I steel my hands and step out from behind the tree. I walk slowly into the party avoiding small people at every turn. I drop my gift on the table and pause again.

"Bella!" I turn towards the voice and force a smile for Savannah grateful that her announcement didn't draw any attention. She pulls me into her and the tears are back. Stupid hormones. I return her embrace.

"Thank you so much for coming. He'll be so excited," she says as she pulls away. I smile half heartedly as she pushes me further into the madness. A small girl races around me and smiles up at me toothily. I swallow and start towards Finn, who luckily at this point is at least not attached to Edward. I'm five feet away when he lifts his eyes to me.

"Issybella!" His eyes are wide with excitement and he throws himself at me. I accept him willingly. I'm on the ground instantly and can't imagine a better place to be.

"Issybella I told daddy you would come, He said that you were busy and had new friends, but I told him that you promised and that friends always say yes to promises and did you see my new house?" he rambles. I laugh and nod my head along with his words. I run my hand through his hair and resist the urge to kiss his head. He stands quickly and urges me up.

"You hafta see my new room, daddy painted it and I have a Harry poster," he continues. I stand ready to follow him and then I see him. I freeze in place, Finn still tugging at my hand. His face is hard, full of too many emotions to place or name. Finn looks to see the delay and smiles.

"Daddy look! Issybella came! I tolded you!" he announces proudly. Edward nods and forces a smile. I hate that smile.

"Look at that, left her new friends just for you, kid," he states. Finn is oblivious to the bite in his father's tone, but I feel it. I swallow thickly and drop my eyes. Finn is drawn away with the promise of a piñata and suddenly we're mostly alone and I don't know what to do.

"He sent me an invitation. I couldn't say no. I know you don't want me here, but he's my friend," I insist. The words are true I just need him to believe them. I knew this was going to happen when I decided to come. And I chose to think of the child over the father. Like I'm constantly thinking of the peanut before myself. Edward rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, you're an upstanding fucking citizen, Bella," he sighs. I bring my thumb to my mouth and try to compose myself. My one promise to myself was that I wasn't going to cry. I'm going to fail , but not here. I can wait. Wait til I am at my hotel and only strangers will be privy.

"Don't Edward. Please don't. You were very clear when you….when you left and I know how you feel, but I came here for Finn. Please," I plead. I just need him to make this bearable. Not that anything where he is so close and still so closed off would be bearable. I'm not going to try to explain myself here. There's a few folded sheets in my bag that I hope will do that for me. If he doesn't burn them first.

"Fine. Have a nice time then," he states turning away from me. I should be used to this action from him. I stand there for a moment until a small voice calls me towards them. I go through the party in a haze, only emerging to interact with Finn when he demands my attention. Luckily for me he's easily and often distracted.

I don't let my eyes search Edward out, I can feel him around me, but I don't look. He obviously hasn't softened at all. The party starts to wind down as the sun sets. I watch as Savannah says goodbye to the guests. I search for Finn and find him curled up on Edward's chest in a deck chair. The image stops me cold.

"He's not exactly a beacon of sunshine lately," Savannah says from behind me. I turn my head to look at her. I don't reply. My explanations aren't meant for her. She squeezes my shoulder.

"Thank you again for coming. It really means a lot to Finn and me and the asshole," she smiles. I nod thickly and sigh. I help her clean up a little and then look back towards my suitcase. This was what I came for. And now my commitment is done. I make my way slowly towards father and son. Edward keeps his eyes on the horizon and I kneel to address Finn.

"Hey buddy, thanks so much for inviting me. I had so much fun," I say. It's not a lie if it makes someone feel good right? He smiles tiredly at me and reaches out a hand to stroke my cheek. Damn tears again.

"Don't go Issybella. Stay and be my friend still. I know lots more games now and we can play on the beach," he says. I smile shakily.

"I wish I could buddy, but I have to go," I reply. His face twists into something sad and I know this is what he needs. He deserves a goodbye and that's what I'm here to give him.

"You know that….that…" the words catch in my throat, held in place by the intense gaze of Edward. I take a deep breath.

"You know that I love you and we'll always be friends. You can call me or write me and I'll always answer," I tell him. Edward sucks in a breath. Finn nods solemnly letting his eyes slide closed. I stand slowly wanting to say so much to Edward, but knowing that anything I say will end up a blubbering mess.

"Are you leaving tonight?" Edwards voice stops me. I shake my head and take a step back.

"No, first thing in the morning," I whisper. It's all I can manage. I keep my eyes on the water. My hand twitches wanting to find comfort in my reason to be strong, but I stay still.

"Where are you staying?" he asks. I take a shuddering breath and wish he would just let me leave, this forced small talk is worse than silence.

"Just some place by the airport," I answer again. My hand begins its journey towards my bag. This is the moment, I'll give him my closure and walk away. I can do this, just walk away. My eyes betray me and glance up at his face just in time to see the frown settle in.

"Which place is it?" he presses. I sigh dejectedly, he needs to let me leave. I let him, he needs to do the same. I brush my bangs out of my face.

"Just the cheapest place I could find. I just needed a place to sleep. Nothing else," I reply. And costs the equivalent of the least amount of days. He sighs heavily and swallows several times.

"Why don't you just stay here? The place is big enough for both of us and those places aren't safe," he offers softly. I raise my hand to cover my mouth to mask to the sob that fights through coming out like a pitiful squeak. I shake my head and take several steps back.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea. I'll just take a cab. That'll be better," I insist. I can feel the familiar churn in my stomach. Not now. Please not now. I swallow thickly and take deep breaths through my nose trying everything to fight off the urge. My hand covers my mouth instinctively and I turn from him.

"Where are you going? What's wrong?' he demands. I turn to see him slide Finn onto a chair before standing to follow me. I shake my head and hold up my hand to keep him at bay. The salvia floods my mouth and I know I'm screwed. I search for somewhere to do this and settle for the large trashcan we were using to clean up.

I lean over the trashcan and empty my stomach. The peanut and I were supposed to have a deal. This was supposed to wait til the hotel. I clutch the edges and wait for it to pass. Edward places a tentative hand on my back and I flinch away. My breaths are heavy and shuddering.

"Are you sick Bella? Emmett said you were better," his voice is soft, reminiscent of the way he used to talk to me. My mind rages. Emmett. I should have known he wouldn't be able to not say anything. I close my eyes and pull away from the trashcan.

"I'm fine. I must just be a little sick from the flight. It's nothing," I tell him. My mouth tastes foul and I reach for a bottle of water still on one of the tables. I swish out my mouth and spit it to the side. At least I feel a little better now. But I need my saltines and that obnoxious body pillow Emmet bought me.

"Really, stay here. You shouldn't be alone and sick in a motel room ok?" Edward offers again. I want to say yes. Just to be close to him, but nothing good can come of this. I lick my lips and take another sip of water. I look towards him and offer him a terse smile.

"I'm fine now. I'll be fine," I answer. Staying the night here will only give my mind too much ammunition to use against myself later. I'll be able to picture him at home, here and see myself and the peanut here. That would only break me further and I have to stay whole. He reaches for me and then pulls his hand back before he makes contact.

"You're not fine. You're shaking and pale and sweating. Jesus, would you sit down and just stay here?" he pleads. It's the timber of his voice, it's the tug it still has on me. I wonder if he knows I won't be able to say no. I look down and swallow hard.

"Are you going to let me say no?" I ask.

"No, so sit down. I'm going to get a drink. Do you want anything?" he replies. I make my way to the chair where Finn is still asleep and sink down next to him, wanting the comfort of his even breathing.

"No. I don't want anything," I sigh. He disappears inside the house and I lean back letting my eyes close. Maybe he'll let me talk, hear my words rather than read them. My hope surges and I push it back down. I will not allow myself to have hope here, its too dangerous.

Finn shifts in his sleep and I move even closer to him. I stare down at him and feel the tears finally slide over my cheeks. All the haze I have traveled through, all the emotions that have plagued me suddenly come together and I'm sad. Sadness that gives way to anger.

The door opens again and Edward appears. I keep my eyes down as he settles in the chair across from me. There's no use in trying to stop the tears and I don't want to spare him whatever it will make him feel. The air is warm and heavy and I sink further into the chair letting the tears continue. I focus on the sound of the ocean and the small boy curled into my side.

The tears slow and I take a deep breath to calm myself. Even if he doesn't want to hear my words, there are things that need to be said. Things he needs to say.

"How could you?" The words slip from my mouth before I can stop them. They resound in the calm around us. I hear his sharp intake of breath.

"It's been a really long day. We shouldn't talk about this right now," he sighs. My head jerks up to look at him. His head is in his hands. I clench my jaw and steel my nerves. It has to be now.

"Not right now?" I laugh bitterly and shake my head "Then when Edward? It's not like you were every eager to talk about this. Apparently everything you needed to see you read on a computer screen."

I lick my lips and twist my hands in my lap. I'm beyond containing the anger now.

"It was pretty cut and dry, Bella. Keep your voice down, Finn's sleeping next to you," he scolds. Carefully, I ease myself away from Finn and stand. My anger doesn't work so close to something so innocent. I take several steps towards the ocean and pause.

"There was nothing cut and dry about that. Nothing. You said you loved me. When you love someone you trust them. You can't have one without the other. But clearly you never trusted me. So how could you have loved me?" I stammer. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth as it quivers. I wrap my arms around myself and turn to face him. His eyes are still on the ground.

"You couldn't have loved me. If you loved me you would have never read those awful words and assumed I would ever say something like that about Finn. Because no matter what you said or what you think, I love him. But you, you lied when you said those things to me," I choke. I swallow and press a hand over my mouth to try to gain composure. My stomach turns again and now they're tears of frustration.

I try to coax the bile back down, but it rises steadily. I rush back to the trashcan and heave. There's little left but water. I feel Edward behind me and he doesn't hesitate before placing his hand on my back. I go slack against the trashcan and just try to breathe.

"Please….please don't touch me," I beg. My mind can't handle the touch. He presses another bottle of water into my hand and I open it and take a long sip, cleaning my mouth out once again. Apparently stress makes the night sickness worse. I set the water down and try to steady myself. My whole body burns as I'm pulled into a familiar chest.

Sobs catch in my throat as I try to hold them down. I press against him, but he holds tight. I hiccup into him and clench my fists between our bodies. His voice carries down, a soft hush on his lips. My head shakes with refusal and I hit his chest with my fist.

"No, no, no," I stammer. I use the small space I have to beat my fists into his chest over and over. I know it can't possibly hurt, but there has to be some way to make this even. Some way to make him feel an ounce of the pain he left me with. So I keep hitting. I hit him for the weeks I lost to the haze, hit him for the friend he left behind who now serves as my babysitter, hit him for the life growing inside of me that I still want him to love.

"Shhhh, stop fighting me. You're going to make yourself sick again," he whispers into my hair. But I can't stop my fists. My body begins to sag as all the emotion sucks away the last of my energy.

"Just a lie. All the words, all the chapters, all just fiction," I sob. His hands reach between us to cover my fists. He clasps them between his hands and stills them. I slump against him and he lets go of the fists to wrap one arm around me. We start moving towards the house and I'm beyond fighting or caring.

He stops and releases me to pull Finn into his arms and then guides me into the house. My eyes stay on the ground, watching the shuffling steps of my feet, avoiding looking at the house. We stop at a door and Edward lets go of me to twist the knob and nudge me inside.

My feet are wobbly as I make my way to the bed, I reach out a hand and run it over the familiar comforter. My eyes dart around unable to avoid the temptation anymore. It looks so much like the room I used to know. The same basic elements just in a new package.

The open bathroom door catches me eye and I stumble towards it. I forgo the lights and reach for the mouthwash I know will be to the left of the sink. My fingers twist open the cap and I take a long pull. I swish trying to get out more than the lingering taste of sick. I want this whole day to swirl down the drain.

My words weren't enough. They weren't even the words I wanted to say, that I wanted to leave with him. I let my anger win out and now all he has to remember me by are broken questions and sad truths. I hear a shuffle behind me and know he's there. I turn slowly to face, him, leaning in the doorway.

"Do you need anything?" he asks. I swallow and run my tongue over my teeth.

"My suitcase is still outside, so you can just tell me where the couch is and I'll be out of your hair," I state. Everything is gone now, drained.

"If you think I'm going to have you sleeping on the couch after you've thrown up twice, you're out of your mind," he shoots back. I nod and bring my thumb to my mouth. Now he has words and emotion. Now that I have no need for them.

"Just tell me what you want me to do Edward," I relent. It'll be easier if I just play along. This will only last a few more hours and then I'll be back in my reality. Surely I can last that long.

"Get into bed," he presses. I glance over at the bed and swallow thickly. That might be the one thing he wants that I can't do. I bite my lip and plead with him using my eyes. He turns away and opens a drawer. He holds out the sweater, the one he knows I love. I reach out shakily to take it. There's no denying I want it. But it all means something to me and knowing it means something to me and nothing to him….brings back the haze.

"Don't you have a guest room?" I argue. He shakes his head, but I don't know why. I know there has to be another room where I can stay, where I will be safe from the consequences of being close to him.

"I'd rather you stay here. I don't want you to be by yourself if you get sick again," he states. The fighting words are there, but there's nothing left to bring them to life. I just nod inching towards the bed.

"I'll sleep on the floor if you're uncomfortable," he offers. I should let him, should protect myself in that way, but this maybe the last time. Possibly the last time I get to be close like this to him. The last and only time he'll be close to the baby whether he knows it or not.

"There's plenty of room," I sigh. I turn my back to keep the guise of modesty as I pull my clothes from my body. There's nothing sexual about feeling so bare. I slip the sweater over my head and ease onto the bed.

I lift the covers minutely and slip under them, keeping my body to the farthest corner. The bed sinks with Edward's weight and I clutch at the covers. This wasn't part of the plan. I was supposed to be in an airport hotel by now, with this all behind me. That's how Emmett and I planned it. That's how I convinced him he didn't need to come. I just didn't plan on still feeling this way about him, on him still having a hold over me. I should have known better.

My eyes clench shut, but my mind and heart are racing. I try to control my breathing, I need to be calm. Excitement isn't good for peanut. And then his arms reaches out and pulls me back towards him. The movement is fluid and so quick I don't have time to brace myself.

My body tense as he wraps himself around me, his hand open on my stomach. I was sure my body was dry, left with nothing after all the tears and sick, but the tears come up again and I close my eyes wishing we were in a different story. One where he knew what was under his hand and I wasn't leaving with the sun.

"I wish things hadn't turned out this way," he breaths into my neck. I remain still taking in his words. "And I did…do love you. Please don't doubt that."

I'll take his words because they will be a band aid for the bullet hole, but that's all. I close my eyes, but don't sleep. Instead I savor everything ounce of this moment. The feeling of him behind me, the smell, every piece. And when the sun slips into the room, I slide from under his arm.

My exit is quick, I don't bother with the changing just slip my jeans back on. I reach into my bag and pull out the envelope and lay it on the pillow. I leave him my words along with everything else I love.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N t&a: Finally, finally, **_**finally **_**we can give you all something that will (hopefully) make you happy. It makes up happy anyway. Almost as happy as all of you make us. For being beautiful and wonderful and supportive and just totally fucking fabulous.**

**We sound repetitive but we don't own. If we did, the book would not be recommended for persons under the age of 18.**

_Should've held my ground  
I could've been redeemed  
For every second chance  
That changed its mind on me.  
I should've spoken up  
I should've proudly claimed  
That oh, my head's to blame  
For all my heart's mistakes.  
_"The Mess I Made" Parachute

Dear Edward.

Dear me.

I've always hated the formality of dear in letter writing, always found it strangely impersonal. I've always hated the word dear in general. It's appropriate in letters for business but for personal letters? It's such a bland word.

So boring. So impersonal. So cold.

She left before I woke up. She left and all I've got is a letter in bubbly black ink. A letter that says things like _nothing has ever hurt more than it did when you doubted my love for you_. Things like _Alice is abrasive and rude and self-centered and had no way of fully comprehending anything about our relationship through a computer screen. _Things like _I never thought I'd meet anyone that would love me the way you did and I'm sorry that it was cut short_.

She left me a letter filled with words that cut, words that inspire things like regret and longing and heartbreak.

The way she looked at Finn with tears filling her eyes is what made me realize that I may have overreacted. Yeah, you think? Overreacted is an understatement for what I did.

It wasn't the words on the screen that did me over. It was the idea that my kid was being exposed to somebody that maybe didn't love him as much as I do, somebody that didn't care about his well-being as much as I do. Wrong, obviously. But in that instant, in the few seconds it took to read those few words, the fear settled. Because my job above anything else is to protect him.

I close my eyes as the plane descends.

The regret, the realization that I got on a flight and ran away before making even the slightest effort to salvage the only relationship I've had of any substance, waking up with her gone made me move. Because I want her back.

I want that beautiful girl back in my life, wrapped up in my arms in my bed every single night. I don't want to wake up with her gone ever again.

When we land I text Savannah to let her know that I arrived just because it's common courtesy and grab the backpack at my feet. I don't plan on staying for more than 24 hours. I plan on going to her place, apologizing, and bringing her home with me. The end.

The cab ride passes in a blur and soon we're pulling up to her building. And it's so weird being back here on this street because the last time I walked through this door I was saying goodbye to it.

I take the stairs up to her apartment because I'm just too fucking impatient to wait for the elevator which takes fucking forever on a good day.

"Edward?"

I look up. I had been so focused on getting to her door that I didn't notice anything around me in her hallway.

"Hey, Em," I say with a nod and try not to be disturbed or fucking pissed that he's been here with her while I haven't. Because I owe him gratitude more than angry words.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh…" I look around and then back at him. "Going for a walk? What are you doing here?"

"I was just leaving." He starts for the elevator but then turns back with a sigh. "Look, man, she's been a fucking mess since you left. She's been doing better. If you make this shit worse again I'm seriously gonna have to kick you in the balls."

I stare at him for a moment in shock and he shrugs at me. "I'll fight dirty," he says and puts his hands in the air. "S'all I'm saying."

I nod and shove my hands in my pockets. "I can appreciate that."

"How's the kid doing? I spoke to him the other day. Told him I was gonna come visit soon."

"Good, you should."

"Yeah, I'll give you a call in a few days. Anyway, I'll catch you later."

I nod and watch him get into the elevator before walking over to Bella's door. I lift my fist and knock three times hard.

I hear her moving towards the door and then it swings open. "Did you leave some… oh." She stops speaking immediately and her eyes fall to our feet before looking back up at me. She wraps an arm around her stomach and doesn't say anything else.

She's wearing nothing but my sweater and a pair of thick socks that go up to her knees. She looks fucking adorable. And for a minute it registers that I should maybe wonder what the fuck she was doing with Emmett in her apartment wearing nothing but a sweater but there are more important things to think about.

Like how fucking adorable she looks with her hair falling in waves down to her shoulders. But her eyes are vacant and so fucking sad.

"Do you think I can come in?" I ask because I can't exactly assume that shit at this point.

"I guess." She shrugs and steps aside.

The rooms are bare but for a bunch of boxes everywhere, her futon, and the television. I turn and lift an eyebrow at her. Where the fuck is she going?

"Are you going somewhere?" I ask as calmly as possible.

She looks down again and starts fiddling with one of the boxes that haven't been taped shut yet. "Yeah, I'm going to move back home," she says softly and my heartbeat, if possible, doubles in speed. "There just isn't a lot here for me now and things… things are complicated."

I run my fingers throw my hair and then clasp them behind my neck. First things first I suppose. "Listen," I begin, "I need to say a few things."

She doesn't answer or look up. The only way I know that she even heard me is by the slight bob of her head. And I feel like such a prick, the biggest asshole for making her like this.

"Maybe you can look at me while I say them?"

She sighs and lifts her head slowly until her eyes meet mine and the sadness in them is staggering. "Can I just ask you one thing before you start?"

I nod. "Of course."

"If this is going to bed bad, just don't," she says quickly. "If it's more of the same, I can't hear it. So, yeah."

I acknowledge that guilt is a sort of useless emotion but I can't help the way it surges through me at her words. I shake my head. "It's not," I assure her softly.

She eyes me warily and then nods for me to begin.

"I should've never doubted your feelings for me or for Finn," I blurt out. "I knew better. I trusted you, do trust you more than I've trusted just about anyone ever before. I was wrong and I'm really, really sorry for that, Bella."

She sucks in a ragged breath and holds it for a moment before releasing it. "So you know that I would never, could never say anything like that about Finn? You know?"

I nod. "I do. And I knew that then, too. If I hadn't known it, Bella, I never would've left him alone with you. Ever. I just… instinct. Instinct took over and I needed to protect my kid and myself in that moment. It doesn't make it right, it doesn't excuse the way I acted, but it's all I've got."

"It was a… shitty thing to do. You say you knew, but why then? You could've called or come back or anything. I thought, I thought horrible things." She takes another deep breath and looks away for a moment before looking straight back at me. "And you two were my story, everything."

I wait, contemplating my next words.

"We still want to be," I finally say quietly.

Her eyes widen and she takes a step back, away from me. And then another.

"Bella." I rub my eyes and let my shoulders drop. "I fucked up. This isn't even something that I admit on a regular basis. But, god, I fucking love you. I love you so much and my kid is head over fucking heels with you and I can't just… not try. You're too important. I know I hurt you and if I could take it all back and just act like a rational civilized human being I would. But I can't. I acted like a total dick and I don't deserve your forgiveness but I'm asking for it."

I take a few steps towards her and thankfully she doesn't move away. "We fell asleep together the other night and then I fucking woke up and you weren't there. And I realized that more than anything else, there's nothing I want more than to just wake up with you every fucking day of my life."

Her thumb goes up to rest between her teeth and she eyes me warily. "I don't know. I'm not sure I can let you. If you left again, if you doubted me again…" her voice trails off.

"If. I won't. I promise you that I won't." I close the gap between us and pull her hand from her mouth. "Bella, I fucking need you."

She sighs and tilts her chin up. "How can you promise that? I mean your words don't have the best track record. You said you loved me and then you left me." She lifts the flap off of the box and then lets it fall again. "And I'm sorry, because your words are really beautiful and I want nothing more than to believe them, but…"

I nod in understanding. "You have no reason to believe them." I push a piece of hair behind her ear and then rest my hand on her cheek. "Except you love me. And even though I hurt you, you know I love you too." I sigh and put my other hand on her other cheek. "I can't force you. I don't deserve a second chance after the way I acted. But I'm asking if there's even a tiny part of you that thinks that this is salvageable to please try."

She looks down at her feet and I feel my heart hammering in my chest. Is it possible that I've totally fucked this up beyond any sort of solution?

After the first two minutes I drop my hands from her face. This feels all wrong. I feel like that dumb fuck in a movie that goes and spills his guts to a girl way out of his league because somebody somewhere convinced him that he had a chance.

"It's not even a tiny part of me," she says softly, finally. But they're not the words I want to hear. Not even a little bit. Not at all. And then she looks up at me and her eyes are filled with tears and she says, "It's so much of me that I feel a little betrayed by myself."

Oh Jesus. I let out the longest breath I think I've ever held and crush her to my chest. I hear myself whisper thank you over and over and over again and then I pull her down onto the futon, onto my lap, and just hold her to me.

"My words may not hold very much merit right now," I say, pulling back to hold her face again, "but I fucking promise that I won't pull any shit like that again."

"You can't ever again. You don't know how much it's not an option."

"I love you," I tell her. "I love you so fucking much."

The tears start spilling fast down her cheeks and I wipe them away with my thumbs. "Always? No matter what? Even if things happen you don't expect?"

"Always," I tell her with a nod and then crush my mouth to hers. Because it's been so fucking long since I've felt this girl's mouth on mine, her body pressed tightly against mine, molding to me in the most perfect fucking way imaginable. "Always," I repeat against her mouth.

Her arms go around me, fingers tangle in my hair, and she says, "I love you. Always."

I lean in and kiss her again, softer this time, just enjoying the feel of her around me. I lean back to lie down because I want to feel her body on top of mine, all of her weight pressed into me, and hit my head on the wall.

I groan and she giggles. "As soon as we go back to California, we're throwing this piece of shit out."

She pauses and her eyes dart from my lips to my eyes, back and forth, until she says, "My parents are expecting me. You want me to come? Are you sure?"

"Am I fucking sure? You think I came all the way here to kiss and make up and then leave you again? Did I hit my head or did you?" I run my hands up and down her back.

She laughs softly and then more tears spill from her eyes. "You can't give me back now, you know. I'm yours. No refunds or exchanges."

"The only thing I want to give back is this poor excuse for a fucking bed," I tell her and wipe the tears away again. "I know this is pretty Lifetime emotional but you don't usually cry this much. Are you okay?"

She leans back slightly and wipes at her eyes. "No I'm not okay. My supposed asshole boyfriend just made this stupid grand gesture worthy of a pinnacle moment and I'm not even wearing pants."

I laugh and slide my hands down under the sweater and over her ass. "I'm not a supposed asshole. I'm an asshole. But, on the bright side, I'm an asshole who loves it when you don't wear pants."

I squeeze her ass and then press up against her. She whimpers slightly and moves against me.

"The benefits of no pants. How soon do you think we can move up to the nothing but those cute little socks when you're in the house deal?"

I slide my hands up her bare back and she shivers when I ghost my fingers over her spine. "You're still on thin ice. And I expect you to make this up to me. To Finn and I. We have lost time to make up for."

"Whatever you want," I whisper. "As long as I can just kiss you right now." I lean in again and she presses her lips to mine, arching into me again. "I really missed kissing you."

"I missed everything about you," she whispers against my lips.

I groan because hearing that in that soft voice is quite possibly the biggest turn on ever. I flip us over and brace myself on my elbows over her. "I wish this stupid fucking bed was open." And then I dip down and kiss her again and again and again.

Her legs go around my waist and she lifts up to press herself to me. I slide my hand up her shirt and cup her tit, squeezing, making her gasp and arch her back towards me. I grind my hips against hers but our mouths never part.

She pulls away from my mouth slightly and says, "Hey, slow down, there's something I want you to see."

I lean back, panting, and look at her face which is so fucking happy thank god I can't even be pissed at her for interrupting.

"Porn?" I ask.

She rolls her eyes and pushes me until I'm sitting up. I watch as she grabs her computer and then crawls back over to me. I pull her into my lap as she boots it up.

"Seriously, Bella, are we gonna watch some porn together again because it's my turn to choose this time."

"No, there's someone I want you to meet."

I wrap my arms around her stomach and drop my forehead to her shoulder. "You didn't actually just interrupt that to introduce me to Alice in a video chat, did you?"

"No, not Alice. Someone you want to meet… I mean, I hope want to meet."

I look up because her words are laced with nerves and excitement and watch as she cues up the DVD player on her computer. She covers my hand with hers and leans back into me as it begins to play.

The screen is static at first and then cuts to a fetus. I narrow my eyes. "Is this supposed to be some strange way of saying that you want to abstain from now on?" I ask and then realization hits and I swear to god my fucking heart stops for a minute. "Wait. Bella, is that…" my voice trails off and I watch mesmerized even though these videos rarely show anything distinguishable. I slide my hand over her stomach and just wait.

"There are probably better ways to tell you and all I can hope is that your silence is a good thing because I am really happy about this," she says and covers my hand again. "Even with everything else that happened, this was one of the best things I've ever taken part in."

"Bella," I whisper and I swear there are fucking tears in my eyes. Because if this is some sick joke I'm going to be really fucking devastated. I slide her off of my lap because I need to look at her, just look at her. This woman that I fucking love more than any other woman I've been with before is carrying my child. "Seriously?" I ask when I can finally see her face.

She nods and then offers me a smile. "I know it's not what we planned, but yeah, we're gonna have a baby."

"Fuck what we planned," I say dismissively. "This is… this is… wow. Give me a minute because I'm crying like a little bitch right now." I laugh and wipe the tears from my face and then I lean over and wrap my arms tightly around her, burying my face in her hair.

"Bella," I whisper. "Bella, baby, this is fucking amazing." I pull back and press my lips hard against hers and there's moisture on her face but she's laughing too. We're both smiling so hard that it almost makes the kiss awkward. "Lay down."

She gives me a strange look but does as I ask anyway and I push the sweater up until it's bunched up under her tits and then lean down and press kiss after fucking kiss against her stomach.

"Hi, baby," I whisper and kiss the smooth skin again. Bella's hands go into my hair and rub my scalp.

"Are you happy?" she asks from above me.

I look up and then crawl up towards her. "Am I happy? Bella, I don't think I've ever been happier. You're carrying my baby," I whisper and kiss her. "You officially can't get rid of me ever."

She laughs. I turn so that I'm laying on my side and pull her towards me until her head is resting on my arm and my hand sits on her stomach. On our baby. "I never wanted to," she says.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N- t&a- There are few things we can say about how much we adore all of you. It's been a rocky road and we have SO much love for those of you who have made it this far.**

**A very special thank you to cosmo for reading this over and finding my mistakes. We LOVE her.**

**We aren't the originators, but we are part of the next generation…**

_Hide in your heart_

_Chase it til the morning_

_Sunlight is lost in your eyes_

_You never tried facing these things_

_Walking on a circle taking staking on a stride_

_Faces are not what they seem_

_I always dream facing the tide_

_I know it all comes full circle, _

_It all comes crashing down on you_

_I'm gonna make it make it better_

_I'm gonna get the best lock it and swallow the key_

_I'm Gonna Make it Better- She and Him_

There's a reason why people always glaze over pregnancies in stories. The reality of having an ever-growing stomach, constant nausea and mood swings would taint a story even if thrown into a comedic light. And those are just the basics. When you add in an impulsive move across the country, an attempt to revive a severed relationship, and a toddler, things are far from picturesque.

When he appeared at my door, rational walked out. All I could see was the man I was in love with, the father of my child, _trying_. Doing what I had wanted him to do the entire time. Caring, begging, talking, listening. All the words I had wished for, for weeks, fell from his lips and I let my heart lead. I showed him the video of the peanut and I let him whisk me away.

And for a very short while I was euphoric, and then the high passed. My mind kicked into full gear and my inner monologue was etched with all the doubt and insecurity that I had built up during all those weeks alone. And then I drifted.

I was still here. Still in his house, with him and Finn, but I felt disconnected, separate. I knew I was wary, worried that he would change his mind. That he would see something; read something and would walk out on me again so I was protecting myself and the peanut.

Finn was my lifeline. I didn't hold back when it came to him. How someone so small could take up such a huge place in my heart I have no clue, but I'm sure it would be small in comparison to the love that had already begun to build for the peanut. I buried myself in Finn, hid behind him.

"Issybella, we hafta finish the book befores we see the movie. It's the rule," Finns states seriously. I smile fondly at him. I tried to trick him into watching the movie instead of reading so I might sneak in a nap, but he's too smart for me.

He took my return in stride, certain that I couldn't stay away from him and demanding no answers. So it's easier to deal with the smaller version, who wants nothing but my time and attention, something I have an endless supply of as I apply for new jobs.

We're just getting to the good part when Edward comes home. He enters the room tentatively. I haven't told him about my apprehension, but he can sense it, treating me like I have a fragile sticker plastered across my stomach. He smiles and leans down to kiss my forehead and then Finn's. The gesture brings forth another companion, guilt.

I need to talk to him, to tell him what I'm feeling. He deserves the chance to say his peace, to reassure, but I'm just so damn nervous. I feel like everything is balancing on a wire and I don't to fall the wrong way.

"What are you guys doing?" he asks, his hand smoothing over the back of my hair and resting on my neck. I wait for Finn to answer just before he snorts a little in his sleep, curling further into me. I grin down at him before lifting my eyes to meet Edward's, there's a tentative hope there I want to encourage, I need to nurture.

"We were catching up on our Harry Potter. Apparently you do the voices all wrong and he wanted to hear them the right way," I answer softly. My tongue darts out to wet my lips and I want to shrug off the awkward blanketing us. He lifts my legs and settles underneath them.

"You ruined everyone with your Harry Potter voices. Whenever I try to read to him now he says, 'Daddy, Issybella does it so much better than you. Try harder'," he informs me with a roll of his eyes. The laughter that follows is terse.

"Have you eaten?" he asks. The smile that tugs at my face is the fist natural part of this interaction. He still takes such good care of me.

"No, but they need to do blood work at the doctor's, so I'm not supposed to eat," I answer. My eyes flicker to Finn as I speak. We haven't told him the news yet. The plan is that after today, after Edward's introduction to the peanut, then we'll tell him.

It was one of the easy decisions we made. I want Finn to know, am sure that he will be over the moon, but things needed to happen first. Like the conversation with Savannah. Who was amazing, and supportive and immediately set us up with the best doctor she knew of. She also agreed that waiting to tell Finn was best. I want to think its not because we're waiting for this whole thing to fail, but optimism is not my friend at the moment.

Edward takes my foot into his hand, rubbing soft circles into the arch and a small moan falls from my lips. This is how I want this to be, all the time.

"But if you're hungry you should eat. I don't think it's healthy for you or the baby," he offers. I smile softly at him. He still puts me first, still, that eases the ache in my heart.

"I'm ok. You can take me to McDonalds as soon as we're done," I smile at him. He grins back and I'm a little lighter in the moment. And for a split second I am sure we're going to make it. That moments like this, with our patchwork family, are going to litter my story.

~pco~

All doctor's offices look the same. The same bland paint colors, the same old, tattered magazines, and the same smell. If I try hard enough this could easily be an office a thousand miles away, with an overgrown man doing a puzzle.

Edward fidgets next to me, his hand reaching for mine several times and retreating. The uncertainty is tearing at me, so I grasp his hand and lace my fingers with his, feeling like an old pro at this point. If three pre-natal visits can make me an expert.

My mind wanders and I wish I could read old chapters of his story. Wish I knew what it was like for him when Finn was on his way. If he held Savannah's hand in a waiting room like this one.

"I didn't know Sav was having Finn, till after he was born," he blurts. I stare at him like he's some kind of mind reading oracle.

"Really? I thought you and Savannah were on such good terms?" I press. These are the kind of stories I want to know, need to know so I feel more tethered to him, more solid. He squirms in his seat, his eyes darting up to meet mine every so often.

"We were broken up and sort of lost touch for a while," he says, embarrassed. "And then she called me and said she couldn't not tell me about him."

My mouth falls open. Everything about Finn and Edward screams insta-bond, like they were destined to belong to each other. My thumb draws patterns on the back of his hand.

"I would have never known. You two are so natural, like he was meant to be yours," I offer softly. It makes me more impressed with the ease of Edward and Savannah. The calling of my name pulls me from my thoughts and I stand. Edward drops my hand as I walk and I turn to look at him. I watch as his throat bobs as he swallows.

"Do you want me to come in?" he asks. And my stomach drops. Despite everything I am feeling, every uncertainty I am toting around with me, I never wanted him to not feel a part of this, of this baby, of my peanut. I smile weakly and hold my hand out to him, offering. He takes it quickly and the smile I get in return lights me up.

He stands to the side, shuffling almost nervously as they do the standard weigh in. The nurse smiles at him trying to make small talk, but he just smiles anxiously. We're ushered into a room and he turns his back while I change into the paper gown.

I settle onto the table, the crackling of the table breaking the silence between us. Edward paces the small space.

"You can sit if you want, you never know how long its going to take," I offer, feeling more and more like the expert in this situation. My words stop him in his tracks and he walks towards me, reaching out and splays a hand over my belly. The peanut flutters under his hand.

"I'm nervous excited. I can't wait to see her," he breathes. I chuckle and put a hand over his.

"Her? You think it's a girl? How do you know?" I ask. There's a hint of a giddy smile on my face. Despite everything else I am so excited about this baby, about this man being the father of this baby. He leans down and presses a kiss to my stomach.

"She's gonna be my little princess. I can feel it," he states and I swallow back the tears. The door opens at that moment and the tech drags in a machine. My heart skips a few beats because this is really happening.

There's a slew of instructions and then I'm on my back, some kind of goo spread over my stomach and we're all staring anxiously at a screen. I've done this once before, stared at a blurry black and white image while the doctor pointed out things like head circumference and length, but all I saw was a distorted blob. Thus the name peanut was born.

This time its different, the tech flips a switch and the fast staccato of a heartbeat fills the room and Edward goes rigid. I know what he is feeling, the awe overwhelmed me the first time too. Even now, having heard it a few times, it still stirs a sense of amazement.

"Everything looks good, right on track for your due date," the tech says. I tear my eyes from Edward's awe and focus back on the screen. And once I look I can't look away, it a tiny person, hands and toes and a face. The wand, slides over my stomach and there's a small hesitation.

"Are we finding out the sex today?" she asks. My eyes dart to Edward's. He licks his lips and squeezes my hand.

"I think we should let it be a surprise. What do you think?" he asks tentatively. I'm a little shocked he doesn't want his premonition confirmed, but I nod my agreement. It feels right, to let it be something saved for the end, to stretch out the anticipation.

"We want to wait, if that's ok," I answer for the two of us. The tech nods and begins the wrap up process. She spouts out instructions for us to pick up the DVD at the front desk on the way out.

We both sit, dazed for a few moments. I reach out my hand and feel relief flood me when Edward takes it and squeezes a few times.

"What are you thinking?" I ask. I want his dialogue, to put his thoughts to words. The awe is apparent, but I know there's more, there always is with him. His hand reaches me before his words, resting lightly on the slightly swollen skin of my belly.

"We did this. We made her, together, Bella," he states. I can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. He leans in slowly, kissing me tentatively, his tongue soft, relearning familiar territory. Each kiss feels like little bit of glue, slowly fitting everything back together. I pull away, glancing at the door.

"We did. Although we just decided not to find out the sex. Did you see something I didn't? You learn some trick from all those parenting books you hide under the bed?" I ask. He reads them late at night, when he thinks I'm asleep. Dog-earing pages like he doesn't have a child already. His nerves make me smile; make me realize I'm not alone in this. Another piece fitting back into place.

"Daddy's intuition," he smiles at me. He presses his lips against mine again, sealing his words. My stomach growls as he rubs it, he chuckles softly. "It's also telling me that you and our little nugget are starving."

I blush a little and shake my head. Only he would call our baby something on a fast food menu, and yet it fits, suits him. He turns again as I change and the lack of familiarity tears at the fissure. I see peaks of the way our story used to read. The full circle I want to make. The glimmers give me hope, but I have to do more than hope. I need to take control of my own story.

~pco~

There are moments that make this new chapter seem unreal, the setting alone can appear so idyllic at moments it's dreamlike. I stand on the beach, my toes barely in the path of the waves, each surge of water, only just nipping at my feet. The breeze off the water has a cold sting to it. I wrap my arms around myself, my eyes locked on a spot far on the horizon.

I want all the weight and sadness to wash away with the waves, get carried far away. But it's not that easy. Sweet, tender moments can't erase cutting, harsh ones. The water can't wash it away, but maybe I can let a little of it go.

The wind carries a sharp bite and I wrap my arms around myself to ward it off. I've already let Alice go. Maybe someday, a repentant, softer version, can reenter my life, but not for a long, long time. And then, only if she can accept the people who clearly represent a huge portion of my story, the good and the bad.

The rest of it falls on me. When he appeared at my door, I made the decision to start down this path. This path of trying to pick up the pieces and move towards a future that had once been so sure. So now I need to go all in.

He's trying so damned hard. Its not artificial effort, but he's reminding me of all the reasons I handed over my heart so easily in the first place. He smiles even when its hard, reassures, touches me as often as I allow. And he gives Finn and I time together whenever I want. He's been flawless, or as flawless as he can be.

A blanket is draped over my shoulders and I jump a little at the feel of it. It's too easy to forget the world around you out here. A familiar set of inked arms cover the blanket, wrapping around me.

"You're going to freeze out here," he breathes into my ear. A shiver works its way through me, the effect he has on me has never changed, the charge between us.

"Just clearing my head. I'll be come in, in a little bit. If you're cold you don't have to stay, but I want you to, if you want to," I stammer. My mind is brimming with thought and my words are escaping without filter. The sigh he expels makes my hair flutter.

"Of course I want to," he says, nuzzling my neck, "What are you thinking about?"

I could brush him off again, but the water has washed away any desire to be anything but honest. And it feels like one of those moments, where everything could change with a few words.

"About forgiving you," I state, swallowing the slightly bitter aftertaste of the words. He sighs again and lets his arms drop, I miss the warmth instantly.

"Do you want to sit or walk?" he asks. I look down at my feet and the water still lapping at my toes, it's brought me this far.

"I'm ok standing, if that's ok. I'm not trying to be difficult, but this feels like the right place, the right background," I answer softly. My thumb finds its way into my mouth, the skin raw. He looks at me, his eyes resting on the peanut.

"I think we should sit," he offers tentatively, "I'd like to see you while we talk about this."

We lower at the same time, I take careful measures to keep my toes in place. I keep my eyes on the water.

"I came here with every intention of forgiving, of acting like it all never happened, but I just can't. At night when I go to sleep I'm worried I'm going to wake up next to that version of you, the one from that day. And it scares me. And I don't want to feel that way. I want to feel the way I used to. Like you could bring sunshine to every page of my story," I spit out. It feels good to say the things that run through my mind on repeat all day long.

Edward moves behind me, wrapping himself around me. He feels so much like the foundation I want him to be.

"I don't think you should forgive me," he sighs, tightening his hold around me, "I want you to, more than I've ever wanted anything. But I was…I wasn't…I was scared. I reacted. I was a huge dick."

I've never heard him stumble on his words, and it tears at me even more. I start to contradict, but he's not finished.

"And now…I mean, I don't expect you to forgive me. I think maybe in time we can fix it, and we have our nugget. And Bella, I just…I don't know, I was wrong. But I love you," he stammers to a finish.

I trace the numbers on his wrist over and over. This is one of the things I want to mend. I want the crude, sometimes rude man who made me my own drink. I hate that I've had a hand in making him like this.

"You're already mostly forgiven. I'm going to give you a little faith. It's not as much as I'd like, but it's all I've got. And when I grow more, I'll give you that too. If you can promise me that you'll always wait when you want to react. Pause for just a moment and let me respond, tell my story," I reply. It's a starting point, a base that we can work up from. And I know we can.

I feel his hand moving over my hair, and then his lips pressed there a few times.

"I'm sorry that I didn't listen. I should have, you deserved that from me and I promise to from now on," he states solemnly. I turn a little, feeling strong enough to abandon the water.

"And I might get irrationally mad too sometimes, and hold things against you. But I reserve the right to do so and then blame it on the peanut," I warn him. He laughs and it feels so familiar, so warm.

"You can blame anything you want on the nugget," he assures me. I smile and feel as if maybe the water has taken some of it away, or at least I tossed them into the ocean, happy to see them go.

~pco~

I fidget with the cardboard box in front of me, not feeling the urge to open it.

"Issybella, which toy did you get? I gots the green truck, but I really wanted the blue one," Finn asks excitedly. He's holding the mentioned truck, waiting anxiously for me to open my box with the same enthusiasm. A chuckle escapes my lips and some of the nerves slip away just like that. I swear this kid has magical powers.

I open the box to reveal the coveted blue car and Finn's eyes light up. He bounces on his knees next to me, our entire kitchen table shaking with him.

"Oh you're so lucky Issybella. That's the best one. I can tell. Blue is the most fast color," he states. I dart my eyes over at Edward who is shoving fries in his mouth like it's his job. It's a nervous tic I'm proud to recognize.

"That sounds pretty cool. You better, hold on to it for me. I wouldn't want to loose it," I answer. I hand over the car and Finn's bouncing almost reaches jumping levels.

"I have a special box for all my cars. I will be extra special nice to this one," he promises. I chuckle again and lean down to press a kiss to the top of my head. Moments like this make me so excited for this baby to be here.

This could be any night in our home. A special occasion given Finn is having fast food for dinner, but we're situated around the table like the mismatched family we are. But there's a buzz in the air, a touch of anticipation that only the adults are tuned into.

Edward's eyes meet mine and I give him a small smile. He wanted to be the one to tell him, was almost giddy when I agreed, but now he looks a little green.

"Hey Huck, lets sit down and eat dinner," Edward suggests with a smile, the smile that's reserved exclusively for Finn. I love that smile. Finn nods seriously and tones the bouncing down to a small fidget.

"Daddy, did you tell them I wanted the blue and green the mostest?" he asks. There's something about this statement, like he thinks this is a super power. Edward laughs.

"I told them you wanted pink," he answers. Finn's mouth falls open in shock. Edward takes the motionless moment to lift him and set him in a chair.

"Pink is for girls, daddy. And I am NOT a girl," Finn argues. Edward presses a kiss to his head and ruffles his hair.

"I'm kidding kid. I told them blue and green," Edward corrects himself. Finns nods, happy with this answer. He picks up a chicken nugget and takes a bite, and then meets my eyes.

"Issybella sit by me," he asks and there is not way I would ever say no. I settle into the chair next to him and watch him eat. The peanut does something like a somersault in my stomach and I feel my eyes go wide with the sensation.

I hold my hand to my bump, wanting to feel it again. Instantly Edward's hand covers mine. I smile up at him.

"Do you have a tummy ache, Issybella? Mommy rubs my tummy when it hurts," Finn states. He has inched closer, watching out linked hands with interest. Edward smiles and at me and asks silently for permission again, I squeeze his hand.

"Huck, Bella as a little nugget in her belly," he explain. Finn drops the chicken nugget in his hand like its on fire.

"The chick' nuggs made your tummy hurt?" he asks me. I fight the smile. An honest mistake for a four year-old. I should clarify, but I'm choking back laughter.

"No, you're going to have a baby sister this summer," Edward clarifies. Finn's face twists further in confusion. Surely there was a chapter in Edward's books on how to tell the siblings….

"A baby? From where? The chick' nugg?" Finn questions. He looks down at his dinner skeptically. The laughter bursts from me. This might be the worst attempt of giving this kind of news ever. And now Edward faces explaining where babies come from. Both of my boy's eyes are on me as I wipe away the tears.

"Huck, it's not actually a nugget, like not chicken. It's a baby, a person. Your sister is in Bella's belly," Edward offers, he rubs my stomach for emphasis. Finn's eyes are trained on my stomach.

"Issybella, you have a baby in your tummy?" he asks softly. I grin and nod.

"Yeah, me and your daddy are going to have a baby," I reply. I can see his little mind trying to work out the details. He reaches slowly towards out still linked hands. I meet him half way and place his hand over ours.

"It's a baby girl?" he presses. His tiny fingers wiggle a little. I grin down our hands.

"Well, we don't know. It's going to be a surprise," I state. He nods.

"It's gonna be a girl," Edward argues. I shush him.

"Issybella knows daddy, the baby is in her tummy," Finn scolds Edward. I laugh again. Then he turns back to me, "I like surprises, a whole lot."

I couldn't agree more. I also like this moment, a whole lot.

~pco~

**A/N- I'm a judge for a one-shot contest (secretly SO excited). Check it out here http:/www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/u/2533017/**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N t&a: Sends out massive amounts of chicken nuggets to all. You're all beautiful and wonderful and this story wouldn't be as fun for us to write without you. So, thank you.**

**We don't think we need to tell you this but, we don't own.**

**3**

_I fell asleep beneath you  
In the tall blades of grass  
When I woke the world was new  
I never had to ask.  
_

_It's a brand new day  
The sun is shining  
It's a brand new day  
For the first time in such a long time  
I know I'll be okay.  
_

_Most kind of stories save the best part for last  
And most stories have a hero who finds  
You make your past your past.  
_"Brand New Day" Joshua Radin

I wake up curled around Bella. Her back is pressed to my front, her hair tickles my face and our legs are tangled. I slide my hand over the hill of her belly. The belly that _our _baby is growing in. I'm still so amazed, so shocked, so fucking excited that in two months we're going to have an addition to our family.

I slide my foot up and down her bare leg in tandem with my hand running over her belly. She hasn't been able to stand sleeping with anything more than a beater and underwear on—she wakes up sweating and irritated.

I think she's really cute when she's irritated. She doesn't agree.

The best decision that I ever made was going back for her. The best. Because she wouldn't have told me. I would've lost the greatest fucking thing ever because of fear, because of my pride, because I was a jumping to conclusions jackass.

Bella hums and wiggles against me, pressing her ass against my morning wood and I groan.

"Are you awake?" I whisper.

"I am now." She chuckles sleepily and rolls over to face me before rubbing her nose against mine.

I think it's the cutest damn thing that it takes her so long to move around. I put my arms around her and press my lips against hers. "I feel like a pervert." I rub her hair back from her face.

"That's cause you are," she says with another laugh and runs her fingers lazily up and down my back.

I give her a dramatic frown and shake my head. "No, I'm serious. I'm all like hard and shit against the belly. What if the nugget can feel me?"

Her hand doesn't pause its ministrations up and down my back as she giggles. "He can't feel it. And if he does he thinks it's another hand. Or maybe Finn's foot."

I narrow my eyes. "I told him to stop rubbing your belly with his feet."

"It's fine. He has very gentle feet. I love that he likes to rub my belly." She places two kisses on my nose.

I slide my hand down her back and over her ass. "He has hands."

"He's four. Any way he wants to show the nugget love, I'm a fan of," she says with another little laugh. "Now I have to pee. I really miss bladder control."

"But." I pout and tighten my hold on her. "I want you to stay here."

"As sweet as I should think that is, if you keep squeezing me, bad bad things will happen."

I groan, lean in and kiss her again before I release her. "Fine. I'll just be here. By myself. Alone."

She rolls her eyes. "I could get Walt and Nemo if you'd like company."

"Don't insult yourself like that," I say and swat her ass when she stands up. "You're a lot more cuddly than they are. Plus, you have boobs. They'd probably just follow you into the bathroom."

She just laughs and saunters into the bathroom. She's so fucking sexy. She was already sexy but seeing her all swollen with my baby makes her a million times hotter.

I groan, rub my face with my hands and roll over. I need to get out of this bed. Savannah is bringing the kid over soon. But all I want to do is lie in bed with her.

She comes out of the bathroom combing her hair with a pair of shorts on. "Why'd you put those on?" I whine.

"Cause Finn doesn't need to see my ever expanding rear," she says and hits me with a pillow. "Come on, lazy, get out of bed and I promise not to cook."

"Promise?" I ask as I swing my legs off of the bed and get up. "The floor's cold," I say and wrap my arms around her waist before sliding my hands over her ass again and squeeze. "I like your ever expanding rear."

She presses up on her toes and kisses me. "That's a really good thing, cause I don't think it's getting any smaller."

I smile against her lips. "Whatever. It's still hot." I press my lips to hers three quick times and then pull away. "I need to go get dressed before Finn gets here. He doesn't need to see my ever expanding gut."

She splays her hand on my stomach and rubs it. "I like your sympathy belly."

I snort. "Sympathy belly? Are you implying that I'm getting fat?"

"Never. You're still the only guy I want to see naked."

"Oh, thank god," I say dramatically and slap a hand against my chest. She laughs. "And ditto." I squeeze her ass again and then really step away. "Now, I seriously need to shower."

*pco*

"Why are you encouraging this?" I ask as I drop down on the couch next to Savannah. Bella and Finn are fawning over the big, stuffed blue dog he got for the baby. "He thinks he's getting a brother just because he wants a brother."

She laughs and bumps her shoulder against mine. "You think you're getting a daughter just because you want a daughter," she counters.

I ignore her. "Huck, your sister is not going to want a blue dog."

Bella leans over and whispers something in his ear. He looks at me and says, "My brotha is gonna want a blue dog." And then he sticks his tongue out at me.

Both women laugh. I roll my eyes. "You're gonna have to let go of these delusions, kid. We're getting a girl."

He giggles and runs over to stand in between my legs. I reach down and pull him up onto my lap. "Daddy, a sista can't play baseball with us."

"That's not true." I shake my head and tighten my arms around him before leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Did you tell Bella that she's getting a surprise today?"

He turns to look over his shoulder at her. "Issybella, you're getting a present today!" he says excitedly.

"I am?" Bella asks with a wide smile. "It's not my birthday…"

Finn shakes his head and looks at Savannah. "Momma, tell Issybella that it doesn't need to be her birfday to get presents. Right?"

Savannah grins. "Right, baby." She stands up and presses a kiss to the top of his head. "I have to go or I'm gonna be late for work. Call me later and tell me how Bella likes the present?"

"She's gonna love it," Finn says. "It's a—"

I clamp my hand over his mouth. "If you tell her it's not gonna be a surprise, Huck."

"Should I close my eyes?" Bella asks.

Savannah laughs and leans over to kiss her cheek. "Let me know if you need anything," she tells her.

"You don't need to close your eyes, Issybella," Finn informs her. "We have to go pick him up. Daddy, can we go now?"

"Yes." I run my hand over his head and kiss his forehead. "But first, go ask Bella if she needs anything while we're out."

He jumps off of my lap and runs over to the other couch. He curls up into her side and puts a hand on her belly. "Issybella, do you need anything while we're out?"

Her arm wraps around him and she leans in to kiss his forehead. "French fries and chocolate ice cream, please."

"From McDonalds?" His eyes light up because, yeah, he's my kid.

"Sounds perfect, Finn, the baby is craving it."

He jumps off of her couch and runs back over to me. "Daddy, we hafta go. Harry is hungwy. So we hafta hurry."

I stand up and put my hand on his head, ruffling his hair. "Who is Harry?"

He looks at me like I'm retarded. Bella giggles. "The baby," he says.

I look at Bella. "We are not naming our girl Harry."

She holds up her hands. "I'm not taking sides here. I'm still voting for being surprised."

I lean over her and press a kiss against her lips before leaning down and kissing her belly. "Call me if you need anything?" I ask her.

She nods and then Finn jumps up on the couch. He kisses Bella's cheek and then her belly. "Call us if you need anything," he says.

*pco*

After I park the car I jump out and let Finn out. He's vibrating with his excitement. "Daddy, Issybella is gonna love her present," he says as he wraps his arms around my neck.

I love carrying him. Honestly, I don't know how much longer this I _can _carry him period is going to last. I don't know how much longer he's going to want me to carry him.

I lock the car and start walking towards the animal shelter. "You think she wants a puppy?"

He shakes his head and puts his hand on my throat. "We have two puppies."

"What about… a fish?"

His hand goes to my cheek. I look at his face and can't hold back my smile. "She can't hug a fish," he informs me. "It would die."

I nod in understanding. "A hamster like the Mr. Abraham Lincoln you have at school?"

He shakes his head. "Too small."

I sigh in mock exasperation. "So what should we get her?"

He presses his cheek into my shoulder and hums for a second while he thinks about it. After a minute his head pops back up. "What about a cat?" he asks.

I pretend to think for a minute even though this kid is too fucking smart for his own good. "You think Walt and Nemo will like having a cat around?" I ask as I pull the door to the shelter open.

He nods enthusiastically. "They'll have a baby to take care of," he says. "Like me. I'm gonna have a baby brotha to take care of."

I nod and try to hold my smile back. "You're getting a sister," I tell him and walk us over to the cat selection. "You like any of these?"

He takes a minute to look at all of his options before pointing and nodding enthusiastically. "I like him," he says and points at a cute little black and white kitten. "He looks like oreos."

I laugh, nod and squeeze him tighter. "I like him too."

I look around for someone that works here. Once we're finally all done we walk out. I've got a kitten in a kennel in one hand and a kid that wants to hold him in the other.

"Daddy, we can't forget," he says. "We hafta get Issybella fwench fwies and ice cweam."

"She's lucky to have you around, kid. Are you hungry?"

He nods enthusiastically. "I want nuggets."

*pco*

When I unlock the door to the house, Finn bursts in before I can even get it open all the way. "Issybella!" he shouts. "We got food and your pwesent."

My hands are full of kitten and food but I strain my ears to hear her response. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world," she says as I kick the front door shut.

When I walk into the living room, Finn is cuddled up against her and rubbing the belly again. "My arms are going to be sore tomorrow," I complain and kick my shoes off.

Bella's eyes are trained on the kennel hanging from my hand. "You brought home a new friend?"

"Issybella, don't look!" Finn says and covers her eyes with his little hands. "Daddy, take him out."

I put the food on the counter so that the dogs can't reach it even though they're more preoccupied sniffing the front of the kennel. I open it up and take the kitten into my arms before walking over to them. I sit down on Bella's other side.

"Huck, let Bella open her eyes now," I tell him. The kitten is so small in my hands.

He drops his hands, one goes to her shoulder the other to her belly, and bounces on his heels. "Issybella, open your eyes."

Her eyes open slowly and land on the squirming kitten in my hands. And then they widen. "Oh he's so small," she says and reaches out. "Is he mine?"

I place the kitten in her hands. The smile on her face rivals Finn's on Christmas. "He's all yours," I tell her and kiss the side of her forehead.

"Except Walt and Nemo hafta take care of him. He's their little brotha. Like the baby is mine," Finn says and rubs her belly again.

Bella's eyes get watery and I stroke the back of her head. "Big brothers are very important. The baby will love you extra special." As Finn nods and continues rubbing her belly, Bella cuddles the kitten against her face.

"You like him?" I whisper into her ear.

She looks up at me through big brown eyes and gives me a huge, heartbreaking smile. "He's perfect. Good practice for us all—having something so tiny in the house." She tilts her head up and presses her lips to mine. "I love him, and my boys. Thank you."

"Issybella, can we name him Dobby?"

Her eyes light up and she grins at him. "Absolutely. He looks just like a Dobby." She presses a kiss to Finn's head and he gives her a big, proud smile.

I give them a mock frown. "I wanted to name him after me."

Finn half huffs half laughs. "Daddy, we would get confused," he says. "If Issybella says your name you won't know if she's talking to you or the cat."

Bella giggles. I laugh and rub the top of his head. "You're right, kid. When did you get so smart?"


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N- t&a- Thank you for all your patience and support as we brought this to you. Real life reared its ugly head. Once again, you all amaze with all your support and love. We'd make you all caramel apples if we could.**

**The characters aren't our original creations, but we do enjoy the twists and turns we add to the mix…**

_For you they'll be no more crying_

_For you the sun will be shining_

_Cause I feel that when I'm with you_

_So right_

_I know it's right_

_To you I would give the world_

_To you I'll never be cold_

_Cause I feel that when I'm with you_

_So right_

_I know it's right_

_Songbird- Rosie Thomas_

There are a lot of signs that a relationship is healing. Lots of small markers that show the progress we've made. I've come to accept that there is no such thing as getting back to 'the way we were', but we're trying really freaking hard to create a new level of happy that might just be better than before. Sure there are still moments that the tear in my heart aches with remembrance, but the stitches held, and the wound is almost healed.

The moment I was most anxious for was the sex. I knew that once I could trust him, there, once he could wag his eyebrows at me and make some stupid remark about making sure the equipment still worked, we would be ok. The hesitancy in his eyes disappeared slowly and I finally had the man I had walked into that bar for, back.

I swallow and lean back a little, keeping my eyes on Edward's. It took some convincing for him to get me on top, but there was no way the missionary was working with the ever-expanding balloon in my stomach.

"Oh god, baby, you feel so good," he almost moans. I feel like all my words are stuck in my throat, held down by the emotion, the pleasure of this moment. My hands fall to his thighs, using them for leverage.

The friction between us grows steadily, and my body tenses in anticipation. I let my eyes slide closed, savoring the feeling. Edward reaches up and brushes my bangs from my eyes. I smile at him just as he tilts his hips and rubs me in that spot that sends me falling apart every time.

I feel him thrust up towards me, coming undone just as I tense around him. The pleasure rolls through me, my body still rigid. My breath panting as Edward relaxes beneath me, spent, but I'm still tense, a throbbing in my back and…lower.

He reaches his hands up and rubs them over my belly tenderly before groping my boobs a little less tenderly.

"That's it, let it go," he encourages. I swallow again and clench my eyes shut, waiting for the ripple that releases me from the tension, but its not coming. I ease off of him, curling into a ball. Good lord, is this labor? No wonder the women are always screaming during these scenes.

Not that I can even curl into a ball. Whoever named this thing a baby 'bump' was being humorous. Cause this is not a bump, at all, it's a planet, molded to the front of my body.

"Baby? Bella, what's wrong?" And just like that, he's pressed up against my back, tentatively rubbing my lower back like he knows I love. The pressure releases just a little and I uncurl a bit.

"I don't know, I've obviously never done this whole, grow another human thing, but I think I might be in labor. Or something like labor, or something I really hope is labor cause it feels pretty awful," I stammer. I had this game plan. One where I was going to be that woman who smiled through the pain. Edward was never going to know when I had a contraction and Finn was going to be in the delivery room because it was going to be all sunshine and bliss. So much for that plan.

"You're in labor? Bella? Oh my God. Let me call the hospital. Shit. Fuck. I totally caused this, didn't I? I knew this shit wasn't safe, fuck. Hang on, baby, let me call the doctor," Edward rambles. I watch, in what would be amusement if my stomach didn't feel like it was holding rocks. He rushes the around the room, stubbing his toe no less then twice as he tries to get everything ready.

Turns out all those books he reads have lists. Lists on what we need to do before that baby comes, things we need to take to the hospital, things we shouldn't do if the grass turns brown on the second Tuesday. That many lists and Edward takes them very seriously. Checking them off meticulously.

"Just get me some clothes and get me to the hospital," I say as I sit up. My words stop him in his tracks.

"What clothes do you want? You want my sweatshirt? God, Bella, I don't know what to do," He stammers. I reach for him, pressing my forehead to his and then brushing my lips over his. I would have thought he would be the calm one in this situation. When I played this part of the story out in my head, he was cool and collected, while I was slightly panicking.

"Your sweatshirt and some leggings are fine. And don't forget clothes for you too, unless you want to show the hospital what you're working with," I try to chuckle. Deep breathes help, making the pain more like an extreme ache. He smiles at me, which helps more than anything.

"You don't think the nurses would give us priority if I went like this?" he asks, posing like some ridiculous Greek statue. The chuckle makes my stomach clench. I wince.

"Probably, but most likely to take you to the psych ward. And I kind of need you present for this," I answer. I lift my arms and let him slip his sweatshirt over my head. Instead of buying maternity clothes, I've simply taken over his wardrobe. If he minds he doesn't complain, even when I spilt peanut butter and nutella down his favorite flannel. Though he did grind his teeth a little.

After the sweatshirt is in place, he helps me shimmy into leggings, then he pushes my hair back, kissing my forehead and cheek. I close my eyes and sigh.

"I'm sorry," he breathes. I shake my head.

"No sorries allowed. If you could push this kid out your….thing, then you would. Or I would make you alternate with me at least. Just no sorries," I insist. He cracks a smile and I try to match the expression.

"Bella," he laughs and shakes his head, "My thing helped make that baby. I think we can start calling it what it is."

I chew on my thumb as we make our way to the car, grateful that Finn is already with Savannah. Even if he has made clear demands to be there when the baby is born. He thinks there will instantly be a first birthday party. Which in planning, he is torn between the themes of Harry Potter or Phineas and Ferb.

"What would you like me to call it? Your penis? Your cock? Your love stick? Your Johnson?" I list off all the names I can think of. I guess I could include more. Some of the girls in the goodie file have very creative names for it.

Edward chuckles as he eases me into the car, going as far to buckle my seat belt for me. As soon as he is satisfied that I am secure, he rushes around to the other side, sliding into the seat.

"First of all, you sound like some twisted Austin Powers saying love stick," he chides as he starts the car, "But I like cock. A lot. Like. More than I should because I think if I try to have sex with you again, our girl's gonna pop out. Right in the middle of it."

I can't help the laugh that works its way through me. The mental image of the baby popping out mid sex sounds like an awful scene from a horror movie, or the kind of extreme porn they keep locked away.

"Can you imagine that?" he shudders, back out of out of the drive, "She'd probably turn into a porn star. Her first impression of the world would be of my bone piece."

All this does is make me laugh harder. It's like he read my mind. And just like that another marker is met and I'm even more sure that he's the one I want. He's the one who will be present in all my most important scenes.

"Don't think things like that. There is no way the baby can just appear mid sexy times," I assure him, still giggling. Even though I'm 97.3% sure, I've never done this and everything about this feels like anything is possible.

By the time I calm down my giggles and we're more than half way to the hospital, the pain disappears, like vanishes. In all the urgency and panic I should have remembered the false labor pains. I've read the chapter at least three times. It can be triggered by anything, food, vigorous movement. What we were doing was most definitely vigorous.

I mention it to Edward, but he's in full, the doctor knows best mode. He makes us go to the hospital, only to have the nurse tell us what I figured out in the car.

The sun is peaking over the horizon as Edward drives us home. I sink low in the seat, feeling terrible that I stole away his sleep. He eases me out of the car, just as carefully as he eased me in hours ago and all but carries me back to bed. I curl around him, my eyes heavy with sleep.

"I'm sorry. I really thought the baby was coming and I didn't think about the fact that we had Mexican for dinner or that our sex might have triggered the false pains," I whisper, the tears pool in my eyes and I don't even try to hold them back. Crying is like breathing, it happens so naturally now-a-days.

"Don't apologize," he hums and kisses my nose before pressing his lips to mine, "It's because of my….._thing_, that having sex hurts you. So, I'm sorry."

I shake my head against him.

"Your…._thing_, didn't hurt me. It felt really good until it all just felt like too much. No blame. Let's just blame it on the bean burrito and call it good. Deal?" I offer. He laughs and spoons around me. I scoot back into him, his heat and familiar scent already luring me into sleep.

"Fine. But, I don't care what Dr. Shit-for-brains says. We're not having sex til after she's born," he insists. I scoff and sigh. Well, that's just another reason to hope this baby is born soon.

~pco~

"Macie at school saids that my baby looks like a frog. She's telling a liar, right Issybella?" Finn's voice breaks my out of my slight daze. I smile at him and motion for him to come to me.

The chalk in his hand falls to the ground as he rushes to me. I glance at today's masterpiece before pulling him to me as best I can. We decided to paint one wall of the baby's room as a chalkboard. Partly because I didn't want four walls of yellow and mostly because I wanted Finn to help decorate too.

So every day we spend hours here. Me in the glider and Finn at the wall, where he is constantly perfecting his picture for the baby. It started with what I think is Harry Potter on a broom and has evolved little by little. Today, he is working on bugs.

"Your baby most certainly does not look like a frog. He looks like you, and like your daddy and maybe a little like me," I assure him. His eyes search mine as I speak, looking for confirmation. He nods and places both hands on my stomach pushing slightly.

"Is he ready to come out now? He's been in there forever and ever. I hafta show him the toys we bought him and I want him to come to the new Harry movie," Finn informs me. I grin at him and help him to be gentler with his touches. The idea of a baby is as foreign to him as it is to me. I'm pretty sure he thinks this baby is going to arrive ready to be his playmate. I can only hope he's not too disappointed.

"Well, he told me last night that he's excited to see you too. But, I think it may be a little while before he's ready for the movies big guy. Remember? Babies start out very small," I remind him. He nods seriously and locks his eyes on my stomach. The baby kicks at his hands and Finn beams.

"He likes me bestest, huh Isssybella? Don't tell daddy cause he thinks Harry's a girl and it mights make his feelings hurt if he knowd'ed," he tells me. I nod back solemnly. I really shouldn't encourage the gender feud between my boys, but how can I not side with Finn?

"Big brother's are very special. The baby will love you an extra lot," I agree. Finn stretches up to place a smacking kiss on my cheek and my eyes tear up. This baby is going to have the best big brother in the whole world. He scampers back to the wall and starts in on what looks like the incredible blob from here.

I rock back and forth slowly, savoring the moment. I'm ready for this baby. I may be nervous to the point of panic at moments, but I am ready. I want to introduce he or she to the amazing people who already love it. I want to show off this product of mine and Edward's love.

I've gotten past the fear that I am going to drop it, or pass off some weird disease simply by not knowing enough. And I _know_ Edward is going to be amazing. He's itching for this baby, brimming with the love he's ready to shower on it. And that alone is enough reason to be excited.

The door slams downstairs and Finn drops his chalk again.

"Daddy's home!" he announces and is off like a shot. I chuckle and stay in my seat. They will make their way back to me after they've had their reunion. And they need the time alone. I get so much more time with him than Edward, and I know he misses Finn.

The rocking chair glides silently as I move my eyes around the room, trying to picture a back in the crib, on the changing table. I squint trying to dress the baby in blue or pink, but still no feeling either way. The anticipation makes my stomach flutter a little.

Both my boys are so sure in their prediction, but someone is going to have to be wrong. I just hope the baby will win everyone over regardless. Which I have no doubt about, it's Edward's child and Finn's sibling. Who will be able to resist?

The floor creaks slightly and my face breaks into a smile. They are constantly trying to sneak up on me, but Edward makes sure I can hear them coming.

"Damn shadow. You've really let yourself go."

My head snaps around at the familiar, but unexpected voice. Emmett leans against the doorframe, his eyes doing the same inventory of the room that I made moments before. I wonder if he can see blue or pink. I stand as quickly as I can, but before I even push myself all the way up, Emmett is there helping.

"Don't be straining yourself and popping that baby out early, girl. Your boy would have my head," he chuckles. I grin up at him and hug him as best I can with a beach ball between us. The tears spring up again and I wipe them away with Emmett's shirt.

"This baby should have popped out 4 days ago. Anything to make things hurry along would be welcome. In fact, let's do that all over again and see if it'll get something started," I say, started to settle into the seat again. He laughs again and pulls me back to his chest.

"You look pretty damn good shadow. Apparently I did a good thing not beating Ed to a pulp when he showed back up at your door," he states. I chuckle and am delighted to not feel a pang when that time is mentioned. Another marker.

"You have a thing for pregnant women, Emmett? I'm pretty sure that's what they call a fetish and even though we're friends, I don't need to know that about you," I chide playfully. His laugh fills the room.

"If you don't get your hands off my baby mama, I'm going to beat _you_ to a pulp," Edward's voice break through and I lean around Emmett to see him in the doorway, Finn perched on his hip.

"Please, she's only yours cause I gave you permission. You're lucky she likes your pretty face. You would have looked good mounted on my wall," Emmett snickers. Finns squirms in his father's arms, wanting to be put down.

"Huck, did you hear what your Uncle Emmett just said? Go defend my honor," Edward says as he sets Finn down. Finn hurries to my side, pushing Emmett away. Emmett humors him, backing away.

"You can't push the baby out like that Emmett. Bella says Harry will come when he's all done grow'ding," Finn scolds him. He wraps his arms around me protectively. Emmett holds his hands up.

"And you can't have my daddy for you walls. I needs him to play Harry with me and buy Bella pickles," Finn adds. Emmett and Edward both shake with held in laughter, but I simply wrap my arms around him.

"That's right Emmett," I say. Simply because I can't think of anything more to add. Finns grins up at me.

"Ok, little man. I got it. You're the boss," Emmett laughs. Finn smirks at him and looks so much like Edward I am a little shocked. I'm so busy watching the interaction I don't see Edward approach. He smoothes a hand over my hair and kisses me gently. I smile up at him.

"My girls need anything?" he asks. My smile stretches wider. I hear Finn's small whine of protest. Edward never tires of the banter over the sex of the baby, and Finn never stops taking the bait.

"No daddy, the baby is not a girl. It's a boy. Like me and you and Emmett and Harry and Walt and Nemo," he argues.

As if they know they are being talking about, both dogs skid into the room, curling at the foot of the crib. I smile at them fondly. They've been _my _shadows since I've been back. As if they knew I needed someone around, to feel a little less alone sometimes.

"My baby isn't going to be anything like Emmett," Edward argues, shooting Emmett a mock look of disgust. Emmett chuckles and settles into my rocker.

"Please dude, she's not going to be anything like me. But if she's anything like shadow, you better watch out in 16 years," he says with a wag of his eyes brows. I can feel Edward tense next to me.

He glides back and forth a few times, his eyes lighting up.

"Good lord this chair is kick ass. I would have a baby just to get one of these!" He announces. Edward is still bristling next to me.

"What the….F, is that supposed to mean? In 16 years what?" Edward seethes. Emmett grins huge at him, leaning back in the glider. He looks like a giant in that chair.

"Well, isn't that the legal age now? I figure you're girl's gonna be a looker and I'm only getting better with age," Emmett offers. I am holding back the laughter. He would know just how to push Edward's buttons. Finn moves to the dogs, leaning against them like pillows.

"That would make you like 50. Are you fu-freaking kidding me?" Edward hisses. Emmett simply grins back.

"Better with age. Like cheese and wine, my friend," Emmett replies. Edward almost lunges for him, but I hold his arm. I turn his face to mine, still battling the giggles with every breath.

"He's just teasing you. I would never let Emmett or any other adult with the mental maturity of a four year old near our baby," I assure him. His eyes dart over to Emmett, glaring one last time.

"He'll be 50, bella. He wants to….I don't even know what with our daughter when she's 16 and he's like, 50," he argues. Emmett chuckles and Edward glares again.

"Let me have at him," he pleads. And his last words do me in. The laughter slips from me, escaping my lips. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes as I laugh, leaning on Edward for support. It feels good and so…_free_, to laugh like this, with these people who have changed the course of my story in so many ways.

I start to catch my breath, wiping at my eyes and then I feel it. A pain, low across my back and abdomen. Distinct, in the right place. I grip my belly and it's gone almost as fast. I swallow and straighten, my hand still on my belly.

"Leave the big pervert alone. By the time the baby is 16, he won't be able to do anything with out a little blue pill. Now, lets feed this baby before it eats its way out of me," I say, pulling Edward towards the door. My movements are slow, awkward, but Edward follows. As soon as we're to the doorway Edward turns back and throws Emmett a pointed look.

"Watch yourself," he states. Finn scampers to catch up with us and turns to give Emmett an exaggerated scowl.

"Yeah, watch youself," he echoes. I laugh again and the pain comes, I hold my belly even tighter and feel a hand cover mine. I breathe through it and look up when it passes. Edward's mock anger is replaced with worry.

"Bella?" he asks. I nod and bring my thumb to my mouth to chew.

"Yeah, this feels like the main event. And we didn't even eat burritos today," I breathe. And I can feel the new chapter beginning, after this nothing will be the same.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N t&a: Guys, this is **_**so, so **_**crazy to say but we're coming to a close—only the epilogue left. Honestly, from the bottom of our hearts thank you, thank you, thank you for going on this crazy, ridiculously fun journey with us. Your reviews, your tweets, your **_**every**_**thing means so much to us both.**

**We don't own… blah, blah, you know this by now.**

_But I knew you were the star that shines for me  
And I had already planned to set us free  
And in the black of the night  
I would ask you to be mine.  
And then, with the rest of my days before me,  
I broke down and fell asleep,  
To your beating heart.  
_"Your Beating Heart" Brendan James

I've been rendered speechless a few times in my life. The first time was when I found out that my parents died. The second was when Savannah called and told me I had a son. The third… the third is this.

The third is sitting in this tiny chair with my brand new baby in my arms.

Actually, the third was watching aforementioned baby come out of Bella's body.

"You've got a big, strong mommy," I whisper and trace the tiniest nose I've ever seen in my life.

I look up at Bella who's still sleeping and I know she's tired but fuck, I _really _want her to wake up. I want that look on her face again. I want her to look at the baby, big brown eyes brimming with tears and love, and then I want her to look at me so we can share this mind fucking boggling awe together.

Bella's big brown eyes open up on this tiny face. "Hi, baby," I whisper and my heart squeezes when the tiniest hand reaches up towards me. "I'm your daddy. Mommy is over there sleeping. You tired her out but when she wakes up she's gonna be so happy to see you."

The baby wiggles a little bit and I smile, rubbing my thumb over tiny knuckles and soft, pudgy arms. "Your big brother is really excited to meet you," I continue. "He can't wait to play with you."

Bella shifts slightly in the hospital bed and I look up to see her rubbing her eyes. "Hi, mama," I say softly so that I won't frighten the baby.

She smiles tiredly at us and then holds her arms out. "I can't believe he's real. It's like the best dream I've ever had and if I wake up I'm going to be really, really pissed," she whispers with a hoarse voice.

I stand up, cradling the baby and walk over to the side of her bed. "It's the best dream," I say and place our baby in her arms before sitting down next to her. "And it's real." I smooth her hair back from her face. "I love you so much, Bella."

She grins at me with tears in her eyes. "I love you more. And I love this tiny one more than I thought possible."

"Finn's gonna shit himself when he finds out he's got a brother," I say and I realize that I'm smiling so much that my face hurts but I can't stop. Just like I can't stop touching him.

"We're going to have to name him before Finn meets him or else I might be persuaded into calling him Harry. I can't resist your son, or you."

I groan dramatically. "If we name him Harry he's going to be traumatized. All the kids are gonna call him Hairy, B."

She chuckles and brushes her lips over the baby's forehead. "I would rather not name him that. But we need to pick. What does he look like to you?"

"Perfect." I trace his ear. "He's so soft."

She leans over and kisses my shoulder. "You're not sad he's not your little princess?"

"Sad? Bella, are you crazy? We have a perfect baby. I counted his fingers and toes five times while you were sleeping. He's perfect. I don't care if he's a girl or a boy."

She gives me another huge smile and says, "Good cause I really kind of wanted a boy. I just didn't want to take sides." She kisses the baby again and cradles him to her chest.

"I was just messing around with Finn. So what are we naming the nugget, mama?"

She pushes back the blankets slightly and really looks at the baby. "I can't tell. He needs a really amazing name. Something strong and unique."

"Strong and unique." I hum and pretend to think. "Like Rocco?"

She turns her head to stare at me with wide eyes. "Absolutely not. A real name. Not something that sounds like a cartoon rock band."

I laugh and run my fingers through her hair. "Umm… what about Nick?"

She raises a brow. "Like the bartender I kissed at the convention?"

"Ugh." I pretend to gag. "Absolutely not." I give a dramatic shudder. "What about Cameron?"

"Cameron." She looks down at the baby and traces his features. "Are you a Cameron?"

"He looks like one." I trace his eyebrows.

"I like it," she says and then looks up at me. "Maybe Cameron Emmett?" Her voice is tentative and unsure.

"Like I'd say no. Emm took care of you when I was being a prick. Of course."

Just then the door opens and a nurse walks in. She smiles at us. "Good, you're up." After she looks Bella and the baby over she walks to the door. "The three of you have two very persistent visitors. If you're up to it I'll let them in."

I look at Bella because I'm not the one that pushed a baby out of my body a few hours ago. "Yes, of course," she says with a big smile.

Just then Emmett, Finn and Savannah walk into the room. "Is it a boy or a girl?" Finn asks excitedly.

"Hey, big guy," I say and lift him up into my arms. "You have a brand new baby brother." I grin when he whoops in victory. "You wanna meet him?"

Finn looks from my face to Bella and the baby a few times before nodding eagerly. "Don't talk too loud though, okay? We don't wanna scare him."

I walk over to the side of Bella's bed and set Finn down next to her. He looks at Bella and whispers, "He's sleeping."

She smiles at him. "Babies sleep a lot, they're growing all the time."

He nods wisely and then looks back down at the baby. "Hi," he whispers. "I'm your big broder. My name is Finn. Daddy likes to call me Huck. And Emmett likes to call me Mini. But my name is Finn. What's your name?"

Bella looks at me and nods for me to tell. "Guys," I say and look at Finn then Savannah and then finally Emmett. "This is Cameron Emmett."

Emmett's eyes widen as he looks between me and Bella. "Come again?" he says.

Bella nods. "We figured you wouldn't mind since it turned out to be a boy. And you won't be defiling him either way."

He grins and walks over to me. He wraps both arms around me and gives me a hard hug. "Congratulations man."

"Thanks."

Savannah is leaning over Bella cooing at the baby. "He's beautiful," she says to us. "I don't want to crowd you guys so I'm gonna go. But… congratulations."

We both thank her and Finn blows a distracted kiss at her. "Shadow," Emmett says and leans down to kiss her forehead. "Your baby is beautiful. Even more beautiful since he's named after me."

I roll my eyes. Bella laughs and shakes her head.

*pco*

Finn thinks that the baby monitor in Cameron's room only works if the baby's crying. He believes that it doesn't pick up big people voices. So every night he sneaks out of bed and into Cameron's room and sits next to the crib to talk to him.

"We hafta be quiet," Finn whispers. "We don't wanna wake up daddy and mommy."

He's also taken to calling Bella mommy. The first day he did it, she cried.

"So, guess what?" Finn whispers. Bella opens her eyes and gives me a lazy, indulgent smile. "I gotsed you a baseball for us to play together. But daddy sayed that you can't play baseball with me until you're bigger."

Bella rubs her cheek against my shoulder and tangles her feet with mine. "I'm gonna go interrupt in a second," I tell her. "But you're warm and I don't wanna get out of bed."

"I'll still be warm when you get back. Kiss my boys for me," she says sleepily.

"When this boy gets back do you think he can get a kiss?" I ask.

Her eyes are closed but she chuckles at me. "As many as you want, for as long as you want, til the story is over," she says groggily because she's half asleep.

"There is no over, mama." I kiss her forehead and slide out of the bed.

I walk into the next room taking care to make enough noise that I won't scare Finn or wake Cameron up. "Hey, buddy," I say and put my hand on top of his head, peeking in to look at the baby. "What're you doing up?"

"I wanted to tell my broder some stuff," he says with a shrug.

I lift him up into my arms and sit down in Bella's glider next to the crib. "What were you telling him?" I ask as Finn curls up in my chest.

"Just stuff about life." I hold back my laugh and start gliding us back and forth. "I think maybe he's scared of the dark too. So I wanted him to not be scared."

"That's nice of you, Huck." I rub his back through his flannel pajamas. "You like having a little brother?"

"I wish he could talk."

"He will soon."

"But how soon do you think?"

"Well, if he's anything like you, he'll probably be saying a few words by the summertime."

"I wish I could be with him all the time," Finn confesses softly. "I don't like it when I hafta leave him to go with mommy."

I kiss the top of his head even as my heart breaks a little bit for him. Because _I _wish he was always with us too. But he needs his mom and Savannah needs him. And the truth is, if not for her, Finn wouldn't be Finn. He'd be Finn minus Savannah. Meaning he'd have probably been toting a fro and eating the filling from McDonald apple pies as a one year old. Not that I was incompetent but I had no idea what the fuck to do with a baby.

"Your mom needs you too, kid."

He nods. "I know." He rubs my collarbone with soft fingers. "Daddy, do you think that when Cameron getsed bigger he's gonna like me?"

"Are you kidding, man? You're his brother. He's gonna like you best."

He nods and then yawns. "You about ready to go to bed?" I ask him.

"I don't wanna leave him by himself."

"He'll be okay. I promise." I stand up with Finn still in my arms and walk to the edge of the crib. "Night, Cam."

"Night, Cam," Finn echoes. "I love you."

*pco*

It's Sunday. It's 4:00. It's raining. Savannah just picked Finn up and the baby is sleeping. Bella needs to get out of that shower ten minutes ago.

I drop my head back on the sofa and close my eyes. It's been crazy. Good crazy but totally fucking crazy nonetheless.

You can think anything you want about your life, try to plan it, try to make it perfect. The thing is, you'll never know what to expect in between Point A and Point B. People happen. Life happens. Things change. For better or for worse, they change. And then suddenly you realize that even if the Point B isn't exactly what you envisioned, it's actually better. More exhausting, yes. Louder, totally. But it's amazing.

Bella comes out of the bedroom wearing my sweater and a pair of socks—her favorite outfit when we're just chilling at home. She peaks into Cam's room before coming back out and walking over to me.

I hold my hands out to her and she places hers in mine. "Quiet," I whisper with a grin. "Finally." I tug her down so that she's straddling my lap and put my hands on her thighs. "Cam's still sleeping?"

"Yeah," she says with a sleepy smile. "I think Finn wore him out with his game of peek-a-boo." She places her cheek on my shoulder and relaxes her body entirely against mine.

I stroke her damp hair and then her back lazily. "And how are you doing?"

"I feel a little like a cartoon character stuck in an action movie, but it's really kind of incredible."

I chuckle slightly just because imagining Bella's face on Tweety Bird is equal parts funny and adorable. "It's a little crazy right now," I say and rub my cheek against her hair. "But not too crazy? You're happy?"

She sighs softly. "So happy. Gag other people with my happiness, happy."

And I sigh in relief. Not that I doubted that she was happy but as much as we prepared, this situation is still overwhelming. And her happiness means every fucking thing to me. "Good. Me too. Even if I sometimes want to throw you in the car and drive to a deserted parking lot for a few hours," I say and slide my hands down and over her ass.

She laughs against my throat. "You think baby monitors work that far away? If so, I'm game."

"Don't tease me," I say with a groan because we're not allowed to have sex for six to eight weeks after the baby's born. "How much time do we have left anyway?"

"At least two weeks. Unless you wanna bribe the doctor, which seems like a bad idea considering he's in charge of my "down there" health."

I scoff in protest. "I'm the only one in charge of your "down there" anything." I slide my hands up under the back of her sweater and stroke the soft, warm skin there.

She hums and presses her lips to my neck. "Fair enough. You can have exclusive access and rights as long as you take the 3 A.M. wake up."

"Oh, ha-ha-ha," I say sarcastically and roll us over so that she's lying beneath me. "I already have exclusive access." I press my lips to her earlobe and grind my hips against hers. "And I'll take any 3 A.M. wake up." She wraps her legs around my waist and arches her back towards me. "Christ, I want you so fucking badly."

"I feel the same way," she whispers and grabs the back of my shirt. "Missed you being this close without tiny bodies between us."

And then Cam's little cries sound through the baby monitor. I drop my head to her chest and groan. Bella laughs and runs her hands up and down my back. "Maybe he'll go back to sleep if we ignore him. That's how I trained Walt, you know."

She laughs and wiggles out from under me. Before she gets to his door she looks over her shoulder at me. "I'm hoping Cam will have a few more manners than Walter."

"I really hope," I say as I stand to follow her, "that you're not implying that my son won't like boobs when he's older."

She giggles and reaches down to lift him from his crib. "All I can ask is that he gets permission before grabbing them." I watch as she hugs his chubby little body to her chest and feel my heart expand the way it does every time I see them like that.

She walks back out into the living room and sits on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her, cradling him in her arms. I reach for the camera that we always have out and snap a picture of her when she isn't looking. "You have no idea how amazing you look like that."

Her cheeks flush slightly and she gives me a shy smile. "It's the baby. He makes everyone look good. And besides, you're a bit biased."

I scroll through the camera before sitting down next to her, holding it up so that she can see a picture of me with Cam from a few days ago. "That doesn't make me want to have sex with myself." And then I scroll forward to her picture. "_This _makes me want you a million times more than I already do."

"If looking at a picture of you with your son doesn't convince you that you're one sexy daddy, then I cannot vouch for your sanity."

"Well, listen," I begin and rub Cam's soft little foot with my thumb. "I never said I wasn't sexy. I'd just rather have sex with you."

She laughs and Cam makes a happy little gurgling sound at the noise. "Well, that's a very good thing. You'd be an awful waste if you were a hermaphrodite."

I roll my eyes. "You wouldn't want me?" I ask and tug Cam from her arms, holding him up in front of me. "You hear that, Cam? Your mama wouldn't want me if I were a hermaphrodite." I turn Cam slightly to face her. "Does that mean you won't want daddy if he got fat, too?" I ask in a pretend baby voice.

She swats at me. "Stop being ridiculous. I'd always want you. You're like my upside down magnet. Somehow we'd always find our way back to each other."

I grin and pull Cam to my chest before leaning over and giving her a kiss. "Ditto, baby. Ditto."


	33. Epilogue

**A/N- so this is it, the epilogue. as always, we cannot put to words how much the reviews and love have meant. **

**we do not own, we simply borrow and tweak to our liking**

_All of these lines across my face_

_Tell you the story of who I am_

_So many stories of where I've been_

_And how I got to where I am_

_But these stories don't mean anything_

_When you've got no one to tell them to_

_It's true...I was made for you_

_You see the smile that's on my mouth_

_It's hiding the words that don't come out_

_And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed_

_They don't know my head is a mess_

_No, they don't know who I really am_

_And they don't know what _

_I've been through like you do_

_And I was made for you..._

_The Story- Brandi Carlile_

**Limitless**: -_adjective_; without limit; boundless

I think I was wearing blinders for a large portion of my life, little flaps keeping me from seeing the whole picture, the entirety of what was possible. The sad part is that I was resigned to that view. I never tugged or pulled or fought against the narrow snippet I was given.

And then I met him.

The man with the penchant for swearing and fast food and who possesses the biggest heart I've ever encountered. And suddenly the view was enormous. The world colored and full of things I hadn't known to miss. Even if I could have lived without some of those things, things like knowing dogs will eat anything, including dirty diapers.

There's no truth to the fact that everything I was missing was amazing, there was a lot of pain and anger and sadness missing from my view too. But there's a balance to all things, knowing the bad made the good that much sweeter. And I had no idea how sweet things could be.

I lean closer to the window, anxious to be closer to the view it provides. The smile that steals across my face is unstoppable. When Savannah gave us a front carrier for the baby, I assumed it was for me. And yet every time I put it on, I have to adjust it because someone else seems to have taken a liking to it.

Edward looks like the ringmaster, trying to control not only a rambunctious little boy, but two dogs as well, all with a baby strapped to the front of his torso. Amidst the chaos of the situation, I've never been more attracted to him. His face constantly lit by a wide smile, occasionally he throws his head back to laugh as Finn and Nemo collide.

Walt stares at the tide barking when it gets to close to the rest of the family. He has never adjusted to the ocean, still sees it as a threat. Edward tried to break him of the habit by taking him swimming, I've never seen that dog run so fast. That was the end of Walt's ocean loving lessons.

I resist the urge to press my nose against the glass. The scene isn't exactly something out of a Hallmark card, but it warms my heart nonetheless. Edward dips his head to press his lips against Cam's tiny head and my heart goes from warm to molten. My boys, my whole world.

There are lots of details about this situation that would lead some people to believe that we have a long way to go before we find our 'happily ever after', but those pieces don't matter. All the key ingredients are there, even some that I didn't know I wanted or needed.

Sure there are lots of things that seemingly need to fall into place. My parents, for example, are still warming to the idea of Cam, much less Edward and Finn. I could tell it tore at Edward, but he smiled through it, determined not to give them a reason not to like him. My dad did seem to warm up to him in the end. It's a soft spot, but they will come around, who could resist my boys?

Edward's parents were easier. Happy with anything that makes their son happy. They embraced me instantly, making my parents reaction that much more sour. They were the answer, in part, to where Edward's enormous heart came from. The tears in their eyes when they met Cam, endeared them to me forever. I'm currently taking Skype cooking classes from Esme every Saturday night. I am determined to make something edible by Christmas.

Finn's squeal of delight brings me back to the picture below me. Nemo has him pinned to the sand as he licks every inch of his face. Edward laughs as he watches, his fingers tickling Cam's feet.

My computer pings and I turn to glance at the screen. My page is much different now; fewer friends, only people I really know, who I really want to keep in touch with. And the whole thing is littered with the new characters in my story. The faces who fill the pages of my story. The alert stares back at me, causing a twisting in my stomach.

_Alice Brandon wants to add you as a friend_

I'm honestly not surprised she's trying, but then again, there's still a bad taste in my mouth over the words she so blatantly spewed about two of my favorite people. I chew on my thumb as I read the words over and over. There are things to be said for forgiving and trying to forget. Heaven knows I wouldn't have the story I have if I wasn't capable of forgiving.

And despite all that I can't really see the point. Not that I want to stew and brood and hold it against her, but we're so far apart as friends; it would really be a gesture more than anything. My mind whirls with the pros and cons as my finger hovers over the keyboard.

Faint laughter leaks in from outside and my whole body feels lighter at the sound. My mouth tilts into a smile and I click accept. The tiny motion feels like another completed piece of my story. Another door I can close without regret or worry. I close the computer and make my way back to the window, anxious to feel reconnected to the people who occupy my heart.

A few more minutes pass before watching isn't enough. I make my way through the house quickly, weaving around strewn toys and books; the small pieces of evidence of the people who make this house a home. Though my outlook isn't always as rose colored. A Harry Potter book can cause quite the damage to the baby toe.

There's a slight desire to pause at the sliding glass doors and watch for a just a bit longer, to make sure this moment is written into my story, but I've spent enough of my life observing, this is my time to live.

The smile on my face grows with every step I take towards them, the sounds now joining the picture. Edward is sprawled out on the sand, Cam now cradled in his arms. Finn is still wrestling with Nemo, trying fruitlessly to dry his face with the bottom of his shirt. He spots me first, squirming out from under Nemo to race towards me. He hits my legs hard, but I know how to stay upright now.

"Isssybella! Save me!," he squeals, moving to hide behind my legs. Nemo trots towards us, wanting to continue his playing. I reach down and rub his head.

"Why didn't you get your dad to save you big guy? Nemo likes him best," I chuckle, reaching around to pick Finn up. I huff a little as I lift him. He's going to be too big for me to carry him soon. I cuddle him a little, I hope that day never comes. Finn screws up his face.

"Daddy says like Nemo likes my taste. That I taste like a chick' nugg to him," he breathes, almost in fear. I hold back a laugh as my eyes flit towards the guilty party. He's got the telltale smirk, but is keeping his eyes hidden.

"He's just teasing, Nemo only eats dog food and occasionally garbage. He just shows his love with his tongue, I mean his licks. He just really loves you," I ramble. I know Finn won't know what to do with the tongue comment, but his bigger counterpart will. Edward's laughter rings out. I feel my face flame. Of course he heard me.

"Cans he love not so much? His breaf stinks," Finn states. I chuckle a little and look down at the large dog at our feet. Nemo's giant tail thumps at the sand as he seemingly watches us.

"Nemo, no more licking. You're very sweet, but Finn doesn't want to smell like your stinky dog food," I say seriously to the dog. I can hear Edward scoff in amusement. I shoot him a look. "If you really want to love on someone, go love on your daddy, he likes to stink."

Finn giggles at my comment, squirming in my arms til I put him down. He makes his way to Edward.

"Daddy, mommy says you like to stink," he repeats, a giggle still on his breath. Edward shifts Cam to one side, making room for Finn. I about burst from the gesture. He is so capable of love, so ready to make room for everyone he cares about.

Edward uses one hand to tickle at Finn's sides before offering his face to Nemo for a lick.

"He just wants to kiss. I like kisses," he stays, trying to keep the dogs tongue away from his mouth. Thank goodness, I may love our furry friends, but I draw the line at sharing spit with them.

Walt appears at my side, leaning his weight against me in his silent plea for attention. I reach down and scratch his head. Some moments still seems surreal, like no one should be the recipient of such happiness. I see this amazing man and our two boys and I wonder if I should least attempt to pinch myself.

But I never do. There's no way I want to wake up from this.

"Your daddy loves kisses more than most anything. More than TV and maybe more than McDonalds," I state. I make my way to my boys, sinking down into the sand next to them, needing to touch them, make sure they're real.

Finn's eyes are wide as Edward pulls me into his side, pressing his lips to my cheek. I can't help the smile that spread across my face. He makes me giddy and I can't fight it.

"Kissing you in my number one," he says with a grin. Finn makes a face.

"Ew daddy, no kissy face," he pleads. I laugh and lean across them to pull Cam into my arms. His small warm body, molding into mine. I press my nose into his downy head and inhale. He smells like sun and baby powder and everything lovely.

"What's wrong with kissy face? You made kissy face at Nemo before," Edward scoffs, placing exaggerated kisses all over Finn's face. He giggles and squirms.

"Nemo didn't ask, he jus' licks 'n licks," Finn squeals. I chuckle and pinch Edward's side offering Finn a little aid. Edward jumps at the touch and lets out a mock girlie scream. He falls back into the sand, pulling Finn with him.

"I'm hungry. I wanna make kissy face at some chicken nuggets," he announces. Finn bounces on his stomach, displaying his vote for chicken nuggets. I roll my eyes like I don't love that the man I adore acts like an overgrown six year old at times.

"Well you better get up and get some for yourselves then, cause Cam here is just a few months shy of getting his driver's license and I don't want to try and get your orders right," I chuckle. I reach back and run my fingers through Edward's hair.

"Well," Edward lets out an exaggerated sigh as he sits up, bringing Finn with him, "Since Cam can't go, I guess we have to, big guy."

Finn doesn't seem bothered in the least, trying to tug Edward up towards the house. Edward leans close pressing his lips softly to mine, tugging on my bottom lip with his teeth just enough to make my pulse race.

He pulls away and grins almost goofily at me before letting himself get dragged away. I watch them until they disappear into the house and then pivot, turning Cam and I towards the water. I cuddle him to my chest, playfully nipping at his nose and reveling in his tiny chime-like giggles.

Walt lands in the sand next to us, wiggling his head onto my knee. I move Cam to rest in the space created by my crossed legs and make those embarrassing faces people make when they get around babies.

I linger in the moment, making sure it's captured, before I tote Cam back inside. The dogs are at my heels, anxious to be close to me as we make out way back into the house. Cam and I start to clean up as I tell him the revised version of Cinderella, the one where she ends up making her stepmother her maid.

The garage opens just as Cinderella makes the stepmother scrub the toilets. Finn bursts into the room, running and sliding to the kitchen table. We have this rule about always eating at the table. A small effort to come together, it seems silly now, but I hope its one of those things that sticks.

He's bouncing in his seat and it makes me wonder what the toy is this time. Edward follows shortly after, his arms full of way too much food for two people. He sets a happy meal in front of me.

"You do know that Cam can't eat solid foods yet, right?" I ask, eyeing the food in his hands. He laughs and moves to grab plates. Finn has scooted his chair as close to mine as he can, I chuckle as I lay Cam into his bouncy seat.

"What were the toys this time buddy?" I ask. Finn's eyes light up as he talks about the boy and girl options, apparently some kind of spy gear and little pet shop. I try to pay attention to exactly which ones he wants. Usually Edward lays on some charm to get the right toys, but its good to know if I am the one to make the next run.

"Which toy did you gets Issybella?" He asks, still bouncing. I tilt my head, glancing at the still closed happy meal in front of him. Usually his is open before the rest of us can even sit. Edward slides into the seat on the other side of me.

"Don't you want to see what you got? And then we can open mine? That way we can trade if you want," I offer. Finn shakes his head adamantly. His bouncing has gotten to a point that I think he might fall off his chair. Edward eases his hand onto my neck and rubs behind my tattoo with his thumb, tingles run down my spine.

"Ladies first," he insists. I chuckle as I reach into the cardboard box and feel for the plastic bag. I pull it out surprised to see the girl option for a toy. Usually Edward gets us both the boy option. The stuffed dog is kind if cute, even if its eyes are way too large for its head.

"You gotsta take it outta the bag Issybella," Finn insists. This time I don't argue, pulling the dog from the plastic, the 'fur' is stiff and most likely polyester and there's not way I'd let even the dogs chew on this. My fingers run over something hard and I twist the toy in my hands, looking at the charm around its neck.

"Well," he asks. "What'd you get?" It's only now that I realize how close both of them are to me. Who knew a stuffed dog was so exciting? For such a crappy toy the charm is really kind of amazing. I pull it closer to my face and look up when I hear the sound of chairs being pushed across the floor.

"It means for you to marry us!" Finn announces. My mouth falls open. My eyes shoot over to Edward, who is indeed in the customary pose, on one knee next to me. my eyes instantly fill with tears, clouding my vision.

I'm almost pissed that I'm crying. How am I going to remember this if I can't even see? Edward's thumbs swipe under my eyes and then he eases the toy from my fingers. I watch as he pulls the ring from the collar and slides it onto my hand.

He kisses the knuckle before meeting my eyes.

"Bella, will you please marry us?" he asks. I can't speak, the tears have stolen my voice as well. I nod vigorously, throwing my arms around his neck. I can feel Finn hugging me from behind and this moment is it.

No matter what happens from here, what peaks and valleys we may find, this right here is the happily ever after. The moment that alludes to everything good a person could want in life.

Edward's lips find mine and it feels like we're sealing a promise. Because in the end, there is really a new beginning.

-pco-

**A/N- and so goes the epic thank you's. there are so many people who contributed to making sure this story made it to this point. Thank you to cosmogirl and whatsmynom for betaing at different points during the story. Thank you to kassiah, nolebucgrl and cosmo (again) for pre-reading and easing my mind.**

**A HUGE thank you to everyone who rec'd, tweeted and loved on this story. There is something to be said for all the people who helped us along the way.**

**And to everyone who read and reviewed…your words have made this all the more amazing. Every review was cuddled and put away in a safe place.**

**Thank you all again!**


	34. Outtake one

**Hello lovely, lovely readers. This is a FGB take that I was way too late on. It's Bella's POV of chapter 10. It would probably make more sense to go back and get a small refresher.**

**SO many thanks to Charmie77 and Nolebucgrl who read over this for me. **

**As always, the seed belongs to S. Meyers. **

Even though selling diet pills may not be my higher calling, there is something really comforting about monotony when you want to escape your thoughts. The script, ridiculous over-zealous customers and even my co-worker two cubicles over who had an episode of projectile vomit have kept my mind mildly busy.

If I could invent a switch to turn off my over-active mind, that would make me a fortune. Far more than these over-priced caffeine pills.

I tap my pencil against my keyboard as I listen to caller after caller hang up on me. Do they not know that I need them to keep my mind off the scene on replay in my head?

Every time I'm still for too long, close my eyes for more than a beat, I see them. My mind has embellished the scene. Clothes are stripped off as they start to go at it on top of the table. The people around them, drinking and laughing like there isn't a porno taking place.

I know that I'm only making it worse, letting my imagination spin it into even more of a wreck, but I don't have the will power to rein it in.

For the first couple of days my mind was occupied with being a timekeeper. Reminding me with every tick of the clock, just how long it had been since I had walked out of that bar. Of how long it had been since I had seen him. How long it had been and he hadn't made any attempt to contact me.

Maybe I had written too much fiction into my reality. Seen more in his eyes, in his actions, than what was really there. The thought sent my stomach to the ground.

After four days, my imagination stepped in. I guess that was all I was allowed to hope for him to charge in like a knight on a white horse. Or at least a knight in a white t-shirt.

Someone knocks over a pencil cup and tears me from the mini porno in my mind. I should thank them. The phone rings and I force myself back into the tedium.

My mind listens for once and by the time I trudge home, all I want are my wool socks and the familiar warmth of my computer. I kick off my shoes, watching them skid under the still undone futon and fall face first into the unmade bed.

There's no rush to move, nowhere to go and the thought almost sparks my mind back into bar porn. Unwilling to let my story wander towards harlequin, I shake my head clear and pull my computer to me.

The familiar page opens and I chew on my thumb as I scroll through the time line, checking on statuses and accepting friend requests. At this point I am almost ready to take up Farmville to fill my time.

The chat window that pops open scares me a little, jarring the precarious balance of my laptop on my knee. I lean closer, the blue of the screen the only light in my quickly darkening apartment.

Andrew Lake. Huh. I try to place the name, but nothing, just residual bar porn. Boredom and curiosity win over as I open the message.

_Andrew Lake: Hey, what's going on?_

I stare at the words for a while. Obviously he isn't going to help me along in my quest to figure out where I know him from. The responses are easy, given without much thought.

_Isabella Swan: Ummm not much. You?_

_Andrew Lake: Nothing. Bored. I'm Andrew, by the way._

_Isabella Swan: Haha I'm Bella. Do we know each other? I mean… in real life?_

The formalities were required, but I don't actually like talking with strangers. My mother did ingrain that in me. That and the unnatural fear of processed sugar. So much so that sugar might have been the villain in the story of my childhood.

_Andrew Lake: Unfortunately, no. But I did a search on people with the same birthday as me and you were the prettiest one._

My eyebrow instantly rises. I am by no means an expert on pick up lines, but even I know that's a poor attempt.

_Isabella Swan: Wow. Well never heard that one before. How about I just let you have the birthday? Take it off my hands?_

_Andrew Lake: No fun in that. We can share it. Do anything interesting tonight?_

This would be an opportune time to lie. To let my mind spin a tale to tell this stranger. Make me appear more of something else and less of what I am.

_Isabella Swan: Interesting? Define interesting? You know what… don't. No, nothing interesting._

_Andrew Lake: Boyfriend didn't take you out?_

I can't help the scoff that escapes my lips. Another less than smooth line. And yet I am still here, still typing. I guess they may work after all. A myth turned truth to be scratched into my story.

There's something oddly freeing about talking to this stranger. Knowing that I won't bump into him on the street or be forced to relive these words lately. Almost makes me want to spew truth.

_Isabella Swan: That was a horrible way to ask if I have a boyfriend. The answer's no. Nothing like a boyfriend. Almost, maybe, I don't know…_

_Andrew Lake: What's that mean exactly?_

My head tilts to one side and I shake my head as I type my answer. So far Andrew Lake delivers slick lines and doesn't take hints.

_Isabella Swan: It means no._

I almost let that be enough. But then the words break free from my mind, tumble down my arms and through my fingers to the screen before I can stop them.

_Isabella Swan: It means sometimes you should listen to your friends and your gut and that people are always what they seem._

And he gets a truth. Unfiltered and unedited. It feels good to let it out, without risking Alice's judgment.

_Andrew Lake: Whoa who fucked with you? Wanna talk about it?_

Apparently Andrew Lake got the message with the last answer. And I do want to talk about it. Want to unload it on an objective mind, but there's still part of me that wants to hold my humiliation close, keep it to myself.

_Isabella Swan: No one. It's no one's fault. I got too involved before I knew the whole story. Just found that out in the worst way._

_Andrew Lake: So? What's the whole story? Maybe I can help with the guy perspective thing._

My thumb finds its way back to my mouth as I consider his offer. I don't often get to access a male mind and maybe he can find an explanation I have been unable to access.

The scene unfolds again and I shake the idea out of my mind. Cut and dry. Clear as glass.

_Isabella Swan: I don't need help figuring out. It figured itself out for me. In front of me. Pretty cut and dry. But thanks for offering._

_Andrew Lake: Things aren't always what they seem. Sometimes explaining something out loud gives you perspective and takes away some of its power, you know? It can't hurt—you'll never even see me. Plus, my curiosity is off the radar._

His words are just enough to edge out a little glimmer of hope. A sliver of possibility. I want so badly to see it another way.

_Isabella Swan: Haha well you know what you said about curiosity? Kind of like what they say when things seem too good to be true?_

_Isabella Swan: He just helped me figure out that I don't want to be one of many. That maybe I don't share well._

_Andrew Lake: Your almost, maybe, I don't know boyfriend cheated on you?_

I'm almost impressed that he's been able to decipher that much. Is that was Edward was? Were we ever even that close to any kind of official title?

_Isabella Swan: Can you cheat on someone you're not officially with?_

_Isabella Swan: Probably not. Like I said. No one's fault. Should have known better._

_Andrew Lake: So, how'd you find out?_

Instantly I'm back in the bar in the moment. I'm sure it would be simpler if I heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend, but you can't easy argue away witnessing it first hand.

_Isabella Swan: Saw it. Watched it. Wanted to burn my eyes out after. Enough of this and me. Tell me a story about you._

_Andrew Lake: I'll tell you this, B. If I've learned anything it's to fight for what you want. And when people piss you off you tell them, you don't hide from them. We miss you here. And I'm sorry if I hurt you._

My whole world screams to a halt. Gone are the simple hopes of getting an outside perspective.

I read the words over and over until there is no denying them. My throat is thick with emotion as I swallow. How?

My hands hover above the keys and I wait for this moment to burst. But he's still logged on waiting. I can't even process what the words mean. Just who delivered them.

_Isabella Swan: Edward?_

_Andrew Lake: Who else would this be?_

My mind is asking the same question. How? Why? I can't even wrap my thoughts around it. He found me here. Created a fake name. Why?

I teeter a little as I try to comprehend it all.

_Isabella Swan: I don't know. Maybe Andrew Lake._

_Isabella Swan: I can't. I don't. I have to go._

_Andrew Lake: This conversation isn't over, Bella._

I chuckle sarcastically. There is no way I can handle this. Not now. Not when I had so fully locked the possibility of him away and for good reason.

My words aren't ready for him, were just going through a warm up.

_Isabella Swan: See the thing is… I was talking to Andrew Lake. This kind of obnoxious flirt online. Not you. Those words weren't for you. So yeah. The conversation is over._

_Andrew Lake: First of all, you shouldn't be flirting with strangers online. Second of all, the words were about me so they are for me. I have a right to know why you've suddenly disappeared from my life. Especially when my kid asks for you every day._

My heart pangs at the mention of Finn before a new emotion presses up, irritation. My teeth grit as I narrow my eyes. People who kiss other people don't get to give orders, to lay out rules.

I don't kiss anyone who looks somewhat appealing. My kisses meant something, said something, at least to me. The familiar pang of hurt I have been trying so hard to avoid, pulses through me.

_Isabella Swan: You don't get to tell me what to do online. Or anywhere else. I don't owe you words like you don't owe me an explanation._

_Isabella Swan: And I'm sorry about Finn. Tell him I read Harry Potter and think about him._

I log off before he can reply. Before he can use his words against me. I slam my computer closed and swallow a frustrated scream. This is hardly the knight in a white t-shirt I wanted.

More than anything I am irritated that I'm not curious. Like an itch it rises slowly and demands I pay attention to it. Why does he care? Why would he go through all that effort?

My mind starts to whirl, but I force the thoughts down before they even begin. A dull throb builds and I reach for the Advil. At least the pain seems to keep my internal questions at bay. I curl into bed and pull a pillow over my head.

My story had already changed directions, started down a new path; I don't know if I even know how to go back.

~pco~

The dull ache clouds my first thoughts in the morning and I reach for the Advil again, happy to not be overwhelmed with the reality of the night before. There are too many possible emotions waiting to boil over.

I go through the motions, letting habits guide me. I wander through a fog and find myself at my window. I'm looking out it, but not really seeing anything, unwilling to focus on the familiar door below.

My mind is at odds with itself. What I want and what I think I need taking very separate corners. I chew on my thumb and wait for the familiar ringing of my phone to rescue me from my thoughts.

"Looking for someone?"

I jump and cover my heart with my hand. My eyes run over them again and again. The words fall from my mouth before I can stop them.

"What are you doing here?"

It probably sounds harsh, but what else can I say?

"Hi, Issybella! Daddy, I wanna give Issybella a hug."

Finn's voice breaks through my thoughts and I give Edward a hard look. But despite everything else, this amazing small person has done nothing wrong and opening my arms to him is the most natural thing I've done in 6 days.

Finn slides into my arms and I can't help but smile as his small hands reach up and cover my cheeks. His lips pucker exaggeratedly as he leans forward and places a smacking kiss on my lips.

And just like that I melt, just a little.

"Hey, Finn, you came to see me," I say. I try to force down the shock and other emotions and just focus on him.

"I missed you. Oh! I picked you a present. Daddy, where is it?"

He reaches towards Edward and I watch as he presents a small wild flower to me, dirt still clinging to the bottom. My smile is automatic.

"Do you like it? I picked it from the dirt just for you."

"I love it," I answer and drop a kiss on his cheek. "It's the best present I've ever gotten. How did you know what to get me?"

"Because it looked pretty and you're pretty, Issybella."

More melting. Finn might be the best kept secret ever. He could turn whole stories around with his sincerity.

"Thank you, handsome," I say. I shift him carefully into my desk chair and pull up minesweeper. It only takes a few seconds for him to pick up on the general clicking.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself to face the larger problem. The one looming right behind me, surrounding me with his scent and wearing a white t-shirt.

My hands find their way to my hips as if it's going to help me along in this conversation. Maybe I look a little foreboding.

"You can't just show up where I work, Edward. Especially using your way too cute for his own good child as your wing man. You just can't," I hiss at him, trying hard to keep my words from Finn.

He shuffles his feet and almost looks apologetic, but it passes quickly.

"The kid wanted to see you, Bella. Who am I to say no?" He shrugs. "Besides, I told you our conversation wasn't over. Not my fault you didn't want to finish it last night."

I roll my eyes. I should have known that a headache would not be able to rid me of the events of last night. I take a quick look around, glad that no one seems too interested in my little corner. The irritation from last night is rising again, with no little boy in my arms to quell it.

"And I told you that I wasn't talking to you. That was a cheap trick and you know it. If Finn wanted to see me, you just had to ask and I would have come to see him."

It's the truth. I probably would have made Emmett do the hand-off, but I would never deny Finn. I know how important friends are, even small ones.

"I would've if I had your phone number. And you blocked me on Facebook so this was really our only option."

I fix my eyes on the floor and take a steadying breath. Damn his quick replies and his answers for everything. Damn his smile that still makes me feel alive. My still thinly-fogged brain is no match for this. Especially when half of me wants so desperately to believe him, to give in.

"I just needed some time. Time to fix, to build, to just feel better. I wouldn't have stayed away forever," I offer. It's the truth.

"You should have said something," he almost scolds. "You wouldn't need time to feel better if you'd just get your shit off your chest."

He leans in, his face so close to mine I can smell the chocolate milk on his breath.

"We never established anything serious between us. I get that what you saw hurt you but above all we're friends. And you should've fucking told me."

I take an unsteady step back from him. His words are tugging at my guilt. If nothing else we were friends. Just as quickly I feel all the resentment and anger the bar porn had created wash over me.

"And said what? That I felt stupid for letting myself think something that wasn't true? For acting like a silly 12 year old girl with a crush? Because that sounds like something I wanted to say. Not embarrassing or anything," I ramble. My face heats up and I know I am the color of a tomato, but the words feel good. Soothing.

My thumb finds its way to my mouth and I want more of this balm in the form of words.

"No. And no. You can't act like this was all friendly fun. You, you got off on my ass. You kissed and touched me. That's not just friends stuff. Don't try to make me feel stupid," I hiss. The guilt that may have pricked me is nowhere to be found. And I can feel my eyes narrow in something close to anger.

I want him to tell me I'm wrong, to tell me something, to give me any kind of clarity. Something that will show me which way my story is going to go.

"Obviously it's fucking more, Bella. Do you think I let everyone I kiss and touch into his life?" he asks, emphasizing his words by pointing at Finn. My eyes follow his motion.

"Do you think anyone has ever slept in my bed just because I like having her there besides you? I'm saying we haven't set up our boundaries. And I can't do that until you figure your shit out."

His words make hope tingle within me. I swallow thickly and try to find my way to a logical response. The phone rings shrilly and shakes the sense from me.

Finn reaches for it and then pauses, looking up at me.

"Issybella, can I answer it?"

"No, Huck," Edward answers for me.

I run my thumb over the bridge of my nose and then grab the phone. The scripted lines come easily, a welcome respite from this surreal moment. I meet Edward's eyes and he's waiting, expecting. The lines pour from me, instinct taking over.

He approaches and leans towards the phone, reaching towards the hold button.

"Tell them to hold on," he tells me.

I feel my eyes widen as I shake my head. I need this break, a moment to compose myself.

"Tell them to hold on," he repeats.

I swat at his hand, but he is relentless, bringing it back, every time getting closer to the hold button. His other hand raises holding all five fingers up. Slowly he begins lowering them. By the time I realize what he's doing, he's down to three.

When he has one finger left I stop my dialogue and ask the customer to hold begrudgingly.

"We can't do this here," I insist. "You're right. I have no reason to be angry."

I need more time, my head is whirling. He nods at me and reaches to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The contact set me ablaze.

"So we're good then?"

I sigh and fight back the goose bumps. I close my eyes tightly and nod. If it gets me time, gives me a piece of sanity back, then I'll give him that much.

"Yeah, of course. I mean, it was just a miscommunication."

The words feel hallow, I'm sure they are what he wants to hear, but I can't quite put sincerity behind them.

"You're sure?" he presses. I nod and tear my eyes from him, focusing on Finn instead. He is too good at reading me.

"Friends, right? I just overreacted."

My mind almost believes the words, even if my heart turns its nose up at them.

"We can be whatever we want to be but whatever that is, we're friends first. That's all I'm trying to say," he offers.

His words soothe me a little. Leave a small sliver of hope inside of me. One that says we might not be stuck as friends forever. The possibility of more swimming in front of me.

"Friends," I agree softly, sounding out every letter. It doesn't sound so bad when growth is an option.

He nods and his eyes scan my face and I know he's looking for truth. I grab the phone and pick the call back up. Truth isn't clear at the moment.

He lets out a frustrated breath and grabs my notepad. He scribbles quickly, holding it up in front of me. It's hard to speak and read at the same time.

_This means I __better__ be seeing you if not tonight then tomorrow._

I roll my eyes and take the pad from him, writing out my response.

_Maybe. We'll see._

"No," he says out loud. "I'll see you tonight or tomorrow. Don't make me come find you again because I'll bring Finn and Walter with me."

He doesn't wait for my response. He picks up Finn and leaves the building. Not giving me a chance to argue or give an excuse. Not that I would. My resolve is already falling.


End file.
